Return to the Ridge
by Killy-S
Summary: A Modern Tale of Redwall: When a body is uncovered at a construction site, it causes quite a stir in Mossflower.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**Yes I know I'm crazy another fic. This is a modern tale of Redwall, something I've wanted to do for years. It takes place between the spring of 2010 through to the summer and fall of 2010. Essentially it is what I think the world of Redwall would be like in a current time. I'm using Mossflower as a model for the UK, and I've kept other countries named as they are. I hope you enjoy it, I would love to get feedback. **

**-Killy**

**Return to the Ridge.**

**March**

Frank Watermeadow, a bank vole well into middle age surveyed the countryside. He stood aloft on a hill side, looking out onto the western plain and Mossflower country. Prime real estate, and after years of negotiations he finally was able to purchase it. The tranquility of the spring day was disturbed by the rumble of lorries and excavation equipment behind him. Watermeadow had hired the best team of mole contractors money could buy, they were known for their speed and fine quality of their work. Time was of the essence if he was to build the additional venues that would serve as part of the upcoming Olympic village. His mobile rang shrilly; digging the phone from his suit pocket he answered it.

"Watermeadow, yes I'm at the site. Yes they've already started digging into the soil, got all the papers and permits yesterday... Wait a moment will ye." He paused in his conversation nodding to a mole worker who was anxiously trying to get his attention.

"What is it?" He hissed indicating to his phone.

"Zurr Oi thinks ye'll wanna see dis un." He took off his construction helmet and tugged his snout respectfully.

Grumbling the bankvole followed to where one of the excavators had stopped working. A group of moles stood hovering over the hole conversing in their quaint molespeech.

"Burr Oi, t'aint never seen a ting loik dis afore." The mole who lead Watermeadow sighed with a shake of his sable head. With a forlorn look upon his humble features, he pointed a digging claw towards the small pit dug by the excavator. Still partially buried in the soil, were the bones of an unidentifiable creature. The rib cage protruded the most, two ribs cracked by the digging equipment. The pelvic bone of the beast was half visible from the earth, along with part of the right femur.

"Hurr, dis 'ere be a sad soight. Nobeast deserves t'be murdored loik dis. "The mole wiped away a tear trembling down his cheek. Moles were such tender hearted spirits, so easily affected by the plight of others.

"OI called ee police office those 'uns 'ill sort dis out hurr oi." Another mole reassured his co-worker.

Watermeadow glanced into the pit sighing heavily, this would slow things down. Another setback to add to his growing list of delays.

…..

Eight in the morning was usually a quiet hour in the West Mossflower mortuary. This particular morning however was nothing like the typical work day. The office had been abuzz with rumours and activity, speculations on murder passed from creature to creature. This particular region of the country was known for its low crime rate, leading to office kitchen debates as to where the murderer may have come from.

Staying out of the gossip was Dr. George Spiny, a cheerful older hedgehog who had served as coroner for a good number of seasons. Despite the unpleasant and sometimes gruesome nature of his employment Dr. Spiny was always in high spirits. He delighted in his work, while most went to medical school to care for the living; Spiny found his calling to be finding answers for those left behind.

Taking his lab coat off the hook he pulled it on over his spikes, buttoning it across his ample middle. Switching on the bright lights he squinted and lamented on the new design of the morgue. "What are they trying to do, make the place look like a television set?" He grumbled as he approached the series of locked compartments containing bodies, yet to be released to the funeral home. On his belt hung a series of keys, held in place with retractable elastic cord. The hedgehog fumbled with the keys a moment, he frequently forgot which key fit into which locker. At last he found it, turning the lock he opened the holding compartment labeled B-10. Within the compartment the bones of the creature discovered at the construction site the previous day. Much of the dirt had been carefully removed to allow for closer inspection. Now the bones lay, set out as best they could consider the slight damage to the skeleton.

Dr. Spiny lumbered over to his computer. Sliding his keyboard aside, he squinted down at the sticky note he hid under it. On the small square of yellow, was every pass word and username the old hedgehog had to use on his computer. Numerous times he had asked the IT department to set everything to the same password. Due to policy, this couldn't be done, the only solution Dr. Spiny saw was to write everything down. He would forget it otherwise. With clumsy paws he typed in his information and waited for the machine to start up. Returning the keyboard to its usual place he heard the door click and a lovely young mouse came in. Setting her purse aside she pulled on her lab coat smiling apologetically.

"So sorry I'm late, Dr. Spiny. The roads were dreadful this morning, and then of course Marigold out front wanted to chatter away. "She sighed heavily; the squirrel receptionist was known to be quite the talker. She was the sort of creature that made it very difficult to back out of any conversation, once she engaged in one. The older hedgehog smiled and continued working away at his computer clicking on a document and sending it to the small printer at the other end of the desk.

"Don't fret over it June, you're not that late. Please, call me George. As you will be working full time here from now on it only seems fair we start using first names. "The printer buzzed and whirled producing several printed sheets. Collecting them up and stapling them neatly, he laid the report on his desk. "The police will be joining us shortly, regarding the skeleton in B-10. Would you be a dear and assist me moving it for viewing?"

June nodded; standing on either end they lifted the large metal tray containing the bones and moved it to a well lit table. As if on cue Marigold the receptionist tapped on the door before opening. Beside her, stood a pair of male squirrels. Each was dressed in police uniforms, their features kindly, yet each carried themselves with the utmost professionalism. The receptionist offered a smile to both the hedgehog and mouse. Her normally chatty nature diminished greatly, she didn't enjoy coming down this way. "Detectives: Richard Oakapple and Jon Barko to see you Dr. Spiny, I'll leave you to it." She quickly left the room hurrying back to her desk.

The two squirrels warmly shook the paws of the hedgehog and mouse. "We understand that the body of a young creature was brought in yesterday, possibly a body dump." Detective Oakapple began.

Dr. Spiny picked up the report off his desk and passed it to the detective. "It was a curious find, however I don't believe it was a simple body dump." He began towards the table where the skeleton was laid out. The two detectives and June followed close behind.

"Any indication of foul play?" Detective Barko moved in to get a better look, while his co-worker flipped through the report.

The hedgehog nodded his spiny head. "Yes, actually, the young hare was defiantly the victim of a violent attack. The right forearm was fractured, along with two of the ribs, not including the damage to the skeleton at the site. "With his paw he pointed out several of the injuries on the bones.

Oakapple looked closely nodding, and scribbling notes in his notebook. "Some of these bones look as though they have been cut with a knife of some kind. I know there isn't much left of the poor young 'un, but any luck finding anything we might be able to use to try to identify him? I'm sure he has family out there looking for him."

Alongside the body was a small box holding plastic baggies, each carefully labeled. "When we removed the soil we noticed most of the clothing had rotted away, whatever scraps I could find I preserved. The buttons, as they were composed of tin by the looks of it, survived well. I think this young fellow, might be quite old. Have a look for yourself." Passing one bag to Detective Oakapple he watched as the squirrel examined it. The button was fairly small but highly detailed. Embossed in the metal was the outline of a mountain and the letters L and P.

Trying to contain his excitement the older hedgehog continued. "I'm only a simple medical examiner, but the wife is a school teacher. She's always watching and taping history programs on the MBC and what have you. I think this young lad was a member of the Long Patrol. His bones indicate he was only around ten, possibly even twelve seasons old. Perhaps a runner or galloper of some sort, you have to remember there was a time when a child of ten seasons was considered nearly grown. Hundreds of seasons ago there was supposed to have been a big battle out near where his body was found. I think this creature may have been slain in that battle."

Passing the button to Detective Barko, Oakapple nodded. "You might be right there; if that's the case this is beyond us. Whoever did kill this young 'un has long since passed on to the dark forest. "

**June**

"In a moment we will be coming through the cabin with light refreshments. This will also be the last opportunity to make purchases from the onboard duty free shop. Information and prices of products available are located in the Enroute magazine in front of you."

Dan Firdance yawned and stretched out his paws in his seat. While the squirrel didn't mind flying, the seven hour flight from Toronto to Mossflower was a bit taxing. He glanced over to his daughter Bethany. Wrapped up in the thin green blanket the airline provided the teen slumbered away. The mouse stewardess came to their seats pushing the heavy cart. Despite the long flight she still looked as fresh and alert as she had been when they took off.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked sweetly setting a blue berry muffin on his tray.

"Coffee for me please, and orange juice for her when she wakes up."

The stewardess poured up a Styrofoam cup of coffee, setting it next to the muffin with a small packet of sugar and an individual plastic cream serving. Then with a smile she laid out a second muffin and juice for his daughter.

Emptying the cream and sugar into his coffee the squirrel stirred it with his plastic stir stick, watching the progress of the aircraft on the small screen mounted on the back of the chair in front of him. Grinning as he saw the tiny animated plane leave the coast, he leaned over his daughter and opened the window covering. They were getting closer to their destination, so the plane was flying at a lower altitude. Few clouds blocked the view of the sea and when he stretched his head he could make out the coastline. There on the western shores it stood as it had for all time, the great fire mountain. In the morning sun it appeared to have a buff coloured glow. Dan waited for the moment to be right, just as the plane was about to crest over the shoreline. Then, ever so gently he shook his daughter's shoulder.

"Beth," He whispered. "Beth, look outside."

With whiskers twitching the squirrel youth grumbled as he father woke her up. "Dad, I'm sleeping." Blinking she rubbed her eyes passing her father a glare, before following his paw to look out the window. There in all its glory, was Salamandastron. Dan smiled watching as his daughter's face melted from one of teenage annoyance, to childlike wonder.

The seasons had been both kind and hard to Salamandastron. The legendary mountain of Badgerlords and the perilous hares of the Long Patrol, had survived countless wars. The great domed peak that in days of old glowed red, with the fired of a forge was now battered. It looked as though a great giant had taken a hammer to it, leaving craters in the rock. In truth the damage was rather new in the mountain's long history. Bombers in the First and Second World War could find an easy target in the prominent fortress. Just north of Salamandastron a series of hangers and an airfield was visible, another addition from the two World Wars. What had once been long stretches of shoreline, now hosted buildings and houses. The Western Shore had tripled in population at the turn of the century, and the landscape too was altered as creatures built homes and businesses in the area. However one thing remained the same; and that was Salamandastron, preserved by time and legend it watched over all.

"That's amazing!" Beth pressed her nose to the window watching as they flew over head.

Sipping his coffee and breaking apart the muffin her father nodded. "Sure is, I'll have to see if we can't get you down there before the summer is out."

"We could go in there?"

Dan nodded eating the small airplane breakfast. "Oh yeah, big tourist spot Salamandastron. They have a military tattoo every summer, and part of the mountain is open to the public. "

Beth's grin broadened at the prospect. Peering out the window again she sighed drinking down her orange juice. "How much longer till we arrive?"

Glancing at the map her father stretched as best her could. "Another hour or so if we're passing Salamandastron now. Why don't you watch one of those programs they have on entertainment system. I saw they had some Doctor Who? episodes. I think that one where they go to Sampetra and meet up with Martin II and company is on it. You know the one, the one where Emperor Umblaz is actually a mind controlling alien. Which given the accounts that he could hypnotize creatures, might be the most sensible explanation."

Clipping her earbuds into the planes entertainment system, Beth followed the directions on the touch screen and began watching the program. She was almost as excited as her father to be going to Mossflower to work on an archaeological dig. Although, still being in high school, Beth was only coming for the experience and to help with some of the more basic tasks. All the same, she had been dreaming of this day for weeks. The chance to see Mossflower, being the daughter of a university history professor, Mossflower history was everywhere in the house. Her father's office was filled with books and posters on the subject. He had even given her the middle name of Songbreeze after one of Redwall's Abbesses. And now, she was going to see it all.


	2. Chapter 2

The plane touched down, as Dan predicted close to an hour after passing Salamandastron. After such a long trip, Beth couldn't wait to get up out of her seat. Her father checked her rush for the aisle.

"Hold up, I want passport in paw. We have to go through customs, and then get our bags and then we meet up with Wally." He instructed as he made sure his mobile phone was turned on, and his carry on was in order.

Fluffing out her tail, which had flattened out during the long sit Beth held up her passport to show she had it. Her father nodded approvingly and once the plane cleared out a bit more, they disembarked.

The airport was huge, far bigger than the one they flew out of in Toronto. Everywhere the young squirrel turned there were creatures. Some pulling heavy suitcases while others relaxed reading newspapers or working away on their laptops. Most of the beasts in the terminal appeared to be native to Mossflower country. There were: hedgehogs, otters, moles, dormice, field mice, shrews, ferrets, stoats, weasels, rats, and even red squirrels like herself. There was even a pair of red foxes who stood talking animatedly with a gate attendant, as they seemed to be lost. Beth guessed based on their accents the foxes were probably from Australia. Like herself and the foxes, there were many others who were not from Mossflower. Some were easy to identify by species alone, like the family of American opossums sitting in the airport café. Others like the foxes she had spotted earlier were a little harder to pick out.

Beth enjoyed taking in every sight and sound as she followed her father through to customs. The young squirrel had gone through American customs before. She anticipated this experience to be similar, and mentally prepared herself for their questions and line ups. However when she and her father arrived at the wicket a cheerful mouse casually glanced over their passports and nodded them along.

"That it?" Beth questioned her father, wondering if perhaps that was there was more further in the airport.

"That's it." Dan smiled, fixing his bag over his shoulder. "Now we just get our bags and go find Wally."

There was a large crowd around the baggage carousels. Dan suggested his daughter sit and wait while he gets the luggage. She was after all a teenager, and knew better than to walk off with some stranger. Finding an empty seat, Beth was soon mesmerized by the large advertising screens on the walls. The sound of drums blared from speakers, as the screens lit up with images of the woodlands. Ariel shots panned over Mossflower woods, diving in to view a crystal clear river. A booming voice announced over the scenic imagery.

"Next summer, the world comes to our playground."

The images of forests faded to show images of athletes and sporting events. The sound of drums grew louder as four hare runners thundered across the screen. It quickly cut to a mink launching off a diving board, then a badger and wolverine locked in a wrestling match. Then the drums faded and the screen showed a young mouse climb the podium as the flags began to rise during a medal ceremony. The booming voice ended with.

"The warrior rises. The 2012 Olympic and Paralympics games"

Beth blinked as the mouse on the screen took on a Martin like image. Her father was suddenly beside her with both this suitcases on a trolley. "Mossflower sure loves their Martin." He chuckled.

Hopping up from her seat she yawned, following her father as they headed out towards the exit. The long trip was starting to get to her, glancing up at the clocks, she noted the time change and changed her watch. It was nearly lunch time, although back home she would just be getting up, if not still asleep. It was after all summer vacation, and when on holidays she hated to get up before nine in the morning. Following along she saw her father suddenly stop. Towards the door was river otter holding high a six pack of beer and waving towards them. This was Wallyum Brookback or Wally as he was known to most. During his university seasons he had been roommate to Dan Firdance, and the pair had been fast friends ever since. Although he was jovial and playful as were most otters, Wally was one of the best archaeologists and professors in all of Mossflower. But he was too modest for any formalities. To his students he was simply Wally, always saying Dr. Brookback never suited him.

The big otter clapped his squirrel friend heartily on the back. "Look at ye, y'old book diver. Haven't age a day. Y'll be happy t'know I followed the instructions in yer email to the letter. "He cleared his throat comically. "Ahem, be at the airport 11:30 bring October ale." He thrust the six pack into Dan's paws. "And will ye look at Beth." Before Beth could make any motion she was squished in a tight hug. The otter's whiskers bristled against her as he gave her a warm kiss on the cheek. "'Ow ye've grown since I last visited yer dad. " He elbowed Dan in the ribs." I tell ye mate best invest in a good stick now to beat off all the fellas."

Dan put the beer on top of the trolley. "Naw, Beth's a big girl she can fight them off herself." He winked to his daughter and followed the otter's lead. Wally hadn't parted too far away from the door. He opened the back door so Beth could get in, while he and Dan loaded up the trunk with the luggage.

Backing out of the spot the otter maneuvered out of the parking lot and onto the main motorway. "The missus has put on a special lunch t'welcome ye. I hope you like shrimp n' hotroot soup Beth."

Beth had tasted the otter dish back home. Her father spoke of it as the stuff of legend, always saying the hotroots used in Canada were not the same. "I'm sure I will."

"Oh you're in for a treat Beth." Dan's voice was beaming with excitement. "May makes the best Hotroot soup." He smacked his lips dreamily his eyes watching the woodlands rush past. Suddenly he caught a sight peaking over the trees. "Beth, look to your left." Over the trees he had sighted Redwall's belltower.

Beth turned to look, but as she did they had passed it. The belltower was again covered by forest. "See what?"

"Oh, too bad. You could just catch a sight of Redwall Abbey."

Wally looked back at the disappointed look on the teenage squirrel's face. He flicked his indicator making a left turn onto the next exit.

"If me little matey wants t'see the Abbey, she's going to see the Abbey." He smiled taking the detour. The exits lead to a small country road that ran north to south. The car ambled slowly through the woodland road. There were several cottages and farms dotting the plains to the west. They passed signs advertising bed and breakfasts with names like: _ The Warriors inn_ or _Matthias and Methuselah._ After several winds and bends, they came to it. Beth didn't mind that all you could see was the high walls and the roof tops. Her heart raced as they slowly drove past the massive gate house with the high wooden gates.

"There she be." Wally announced proudly.

Smiling broadly Beth leaned forward tweaking her father's tail. "Can we go inside, please dad can we visit Redwall."

Her father nodded. "Of course, we'll see the tapestry and the whole bit."

Beth's eyes grew wide. "The tapestry of Martin the Warrior?"

Wally shook his head laughing as he pulled back onto the motorway. "No the tapestry of Fred the Cleaner. Of course the tapestry of Martin t Warrior, where else do you think they keep it?"


	3. Chapter 3

May Brookback glanced up at the clock on her kitchen wall. It was quarter to two already and no sign of her husband or the two squirrels he was supposed to pick up from the airport. She wondered if perhaps the flight was delayed, or there had been some hold up. Wally had his mobile with him, and it wasn't like him not to call. Knowing there was no point in worrying she checked the soup simmering on the stove. She had planned to serve lunch at twelve thirty, but when they hadn't appeared by then, she was forced to turn it down to a light simmer. Lifting her ladle from the spoon rest she stirred a smaller pot calling out to the living room.

"They're still not back yet Dad, would you like your lunch now?"

May's father Churk Streamer had moved in with the Brookback family after suffering a minor heart-attack three seasons ago. He sat in his old worn armchair with the paper, half dozing and half reading. At the sound of his daughter's voice he shook springing to live. Folding the paper he set it on the side table and plodded towards the kitchen. The smell of hotroot soup was enough to draw out any otter.

"I haven't the time t'be waiting for that mate o'yours. By the time he steers hisself this way I'll be long gone." He chuckled, slowly sitting down at his seat at the tables head. The table was already set for five. Fresh baked rolls were laid out, along with May's ceramic salt and pepper shakers shaped like watershirmp. The shakers had been a gift from the past mother's day. May ladled out a bowl of soup from the smaller pot, bringing it over to her father. Turning rapidly on her paws, she fetched the butter from the refrigerator.

Churk stirred the soup in his bowl, bobbing the watershrimp up and down with his spoon far more like an otter kit, than a beast of his seasons. He sighed then set his spoon down again glancing towards his daughter. "I can't eat this. Tis no flavor to it wit' out the 'otroot pepper."

May chided her father, filling his glass with ice water. "Now dad, the doctor says with your gallbladder acting up as it is, you shouldn't have any hotroot pepper. I made a special soup for you, following his specifications."

"Humph, doctor doesn't know the medicinal qualities of the 'otroot." He scoffed reaching a paw towards the salt shaker. "Least 'e could do is allow me some flavour." His paw was abruptly slapped by his daughter.

"Dad, no salt! Not with the way your blood pressure has been this week. Now eat your soup and no complaints."

Churk didn't have any further opportunity to complain, for that very moment Wally, Dan and Beth walked through the door.

"Hello darlin' wife love of me life. Look at these scruffy wayfarers I found on me afternoon drive t'day. Do y'think ye can manage to give 'em some vittles t'warm t cockles o'there hearts?" Wally headed straight for the pot of hotroot soup. Lifting the lid, he licked his lips hungrily.

"You're late Wally." May tried to sound disapproving, but her frown soon faded into a smile. "You could 'ave called."

Beth soon found herself squashed in May's tight embrace. "How are you little miss? How was the flight? Now, sit yourself down and I'll get you some lunch."

Blinking several times the squirrel youth slid into the chair across from Churk. Her father sat down beside her passing her a gentle smile. May soon served up steaming bowls of soup for all of them. Wally sat beside his father-in-law clapping her elder otter heartily on the shoulder.

"How's it going me ole skipper?" he winked broadly at Churk dipping some of the fresh rolls into his soup.

"Well enough laddo, without the likes o'ye shouting at me." He nodded gruffly towards Dan. "An' you flew all this way to work, with this saucy pelt."

Dan grinned eating hulking spoonfuls of the spicy soup. "Aye sir, I'd fly twice as far for a taste of your daughter's cooking."

May flushed at the compliment. "Oh stop it."

Wally took his wife's paw and began singing comically.

"Oh my darling, my heart would droop.

If ye won't make me another pot o' soup.

Me eyes grow dim and my fur gets pale,

if me wife won't fetch me some October Ale

…er wait left the October Ale out in the car."

Letting go of his wife's paw he hurried out to collect the forgotten six pack.

May shook her head sighing heavily. "Now what's the matter missy, not likeing lunch?"

Beth was taking several painful gulps of her water, her eyes watering from the hotroot peppers. "No it's okay." She choked. Her coughs caused much amusement for May and her father.

"Oh deary me, don't eat it if you can't handle it sweet heart." May warned.

Her father chuckled into his own soup nearly choking himself.

Without warning Wally waltzed into the kitchen again holding aloft the ale. He opened one passing it to Dan, and then opened himself one. All the while still singing off key.

"An' when I'm dead and laying in me hole,

mark me grave wit' me spoon and bowl.

Tell every young lad who passes by,

they can sit an sup and remember I…

Remember I when I was young and strong…"

"Wally enough already." May stopped his unending song, and then placed a paw over his ale. "I thought you said you were going to take Dan to pick up his car after lunch."

"But... but" Wally protested holding up his opened bottle.

"No drinking, not one drop Wallyum!"

Setting his bottle down he made a face and went back to his soup.

After downing three glasses of water, Beth was finally able to eat her bowl of hot root soup. She had to admit; while spicy it had been the experience her father had promised. Now with belly full her eyelids felt heavy. She yawned heavily finding it hard to keep her eyes open.

May reached over and gently patted her shoulder. "You look fair worn out young'un. How about you have a little lie down in me nice warm bed? Your dad and my Wally can sort out getting your things to the cottage. By the time you get up our young 'uns will be back from school. Our Nance is about your age. Come on I'll show you where it is."

Smiling softly the young squirrel followed the kindly otter wife. The house was as neat as a pin, and there was the faint smell of heather that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The master bedroom wasn't near as large as her own parents' room, but it seemed sufficient. A large sea chest sat at the end of a queen-sized bed. The headboard was carved from an oak as was the modest dresser to the side of the bed. The bedspread was a foggy blue colour, which matched the large painting hanging over the bed. Set in an ornate frame the picture depicted an older male otter with a pipe dangling from the side of his mouth and a cap slanted at a jaunty angle over his head. He was rowing a boat with a small otter girl helping clutch the massive oar. The painting was so lifelike it seemed they might row off the canvas and into the room.

Shutting the curtains May nodded towards the bed. "Go an' have a little snooze. Don't fret I'll wake you before tea time."

Tea time for Beth conjured images of large hats and crumpets. But, she was far too sleepy to giggle at such notions.


	4. Chapter 4

With lunch over, and Beth safely tucked away for a nap, Wally and Dan left the Bookback residence. Wally had become invaluable to Dan throughout the whole process. Not only had his otter friend insisted he come work on the site, he had made all the arrangements to get Dan the contract. To top it off Wally, with some assistance from his wife, had found Dan and his daughter a place to stay. The small rental cottage was a fifteen minute drive from the Brookback house. Although, the drive was through slow and winding woodland roads, which made the fifteen minutes seem considerably longer. Wally's old car jostled and bumped along the road as they pulled up to the gravel driveway.

There were four neat little cottages lined up in a row. Each had their stone and brickwork painted over with a gentle white. On top a thatched roof and a small stone chimney popped out through the thick mesh of thatching. The cottages had been built to provide seasonal residence for workers of farm that had once stretched over much of these western lands. Of course, with time the farm had diminished in side. Now, only a small portion remained spanning the area behind the cottages, and surrounding a cheerful looking farm house.

Getting out of the car, Wally nodded towards the cottage before them. "This is it, hope it will do for the season. We just need t'get the keys, an' we can start unloading yer suitcases. " He waved a paw for the squirrel to join him. Dan followed, admiring the neat little flower planters that lined the walkways that interconnected each of the holiday cottages. Wally rang the bell for the larger farm house. Moments later, a homely looking elderly hedgehog-lady answered. She wore thick spectacles perched on her narrow snout. Her spikes were white with age, Dan suspected her to be well into her eighty's or perhaps even ninety's. Although it was a warm afternoon, the hedgehog wore a heavy knit sweater over her shapeless floral-print dress. With a twitching snout and a cheerful smile she opened the door for the squirrel and otter. She warmly took Dan's paw saying, "You must be Mr. Firdance. I've heard all about you, so happy you will be staying in my cottages with that little daughter of yours. Firdance, hmm, I know that name. I don't suppose you're any relation to the Firdances of Water-meadowshire?"

Dan shook his head softly. "Couldn't say ma'am, family have been in Canada for at least five or six generations."

The old hedgehog looked disappointed. "Oh well, no matter. I'm Mrs. Witherspyke; it is pronounced Wither Spike but spelt with a Y rather than an I." She explained gently. From the key hook she retrieved two keys dangling from a single key-ring. "I'm sure you're anxious to get to see the cottage. I do hope you won't mind me not joining you, but the rheumatism keeps me in much of the time now. If you need anything I'm only around the corner, my number is posted by the phone. Take care, now Mr. Firdance." Passing the keys into Dan's paws, the ancient hedgehog shuffled back into her home.

"Don't mind old Mrs. Witherspyke." Wally said as they headed towards the rented cabin. "Her daughter says she's a fussy old creature, but means well. If she starts calling you up or any such nonsense, her daughter's number is listed by the phone. She told me t'pass on that she can politely slip word to her mother t'stop being a bother if it comes to that." As they passed the car Wally opened the trunk. They each pulled along the heavy suitcases towards the cottage.

The squirrel turned the key in the lock, pushing the heavy door inwards. "I don't think it will come to that. She seems like a kindly old lady."

The rental cottage was small, but comfortable enough for a season. Dan sniffed the air; there was the strong smell of soap. It wasn't especially unpleasant, nor did it hold any masking floral or citrus scent as many cleaners did. It just smelled of soap. There was a small porch, with hooks for hats and jackets. This lead into the small reception room, then it was up a step to the kitchen. Hauling the luggage through the two lower level rooms, both squirrel and otter were faced with a perilously narrow flight of wooden stairs. Glancing up at the flight of stairs, they each gazed despairingly at the suitcases they would have to take up.

"'tis yer place. Only fair ye go first." Wally stepped back, making a comical half bow to his friend.

"Thank you kindly Mr. Brookback. Well at least I'll have a soft landing when I tumble down." Laughing Dan took hold of his daughter's suitcase. Step by step he ascended each wooden step. The wooden steps creaked, as if they threatened to give way. Each beast was panting when they finally got to the top.

The upper floor held the two bedrooms and the only bathroom. Peeking into the bathroom Dan shook his head. "Beth isn't going to like the look of this." He chuckled. The bathroom was small with limited storage space. Being male this didn't bother Dan in the slightest. After all it was plenty big for his needs. However, his teenage daughter might have something to say about it. Dan could already spy Beth's first complaint. The showerhead was not fixed to the wall as it typically was in North American style bathrooms. Instead the showerhead was attached to a short hose, and would require be held in one paw.

Wally had gone on ahead to inspect the bedrooms. "Both seem t'be the same size. " He motioned to one of the rooms. "That one has a nice view of the countryside."

Dan pushed his daughter's suitcase towards the room Wally had indicated. "I'll let Beth have it then. Might encourage her to actually wake up in the morning."

"Hey, you gonna get up?" A paw prodded Beth gently.

Slowly coming to wakefulness she blinked several times not sure where she was. Sitting up she rubbed her eyes and saw a young female otter wearing a school uniform, standing beside the bed. Blinking her vision cleared. Remembering where she was, Beth regarded this young otter curiously. The girl had a short blue/green plaid skirt, blue sweater and a white collared shirt on underneath. On the left side of the sweater was the school crest, which in the low light Beth couldn't make out. Of course all Beth could think of was Harry Potter, as school uniforms were not prevalent in her neighbourhood.

The young otter smiled brightly. "Mummy wanted me t'wake ye up. I'm Annie, I'm the youngest." Not much older than six or seven seasons of age, the young otter held her head high as she explained this to Beth.

"Nice to meet you Annie, I'm Beth." The squirrel got out of bed setting the blankets neatly behind her.

"I know that already."Spinning about on her paws Annie left the bedroom, not seeming to care if Beth followed or not.

It seemed all of the four Brookback children had returned from school. Two young otter boys sat at the kitchen table, each with pencils pressed hard to paper as they struggled to solve math problems. They had already changed out of their school uniforms, and now wore matching shorts and rugby shirts.

"What did I tell you Annie? Go change out of that uniform please, an' hang it up nicely." May sighed calling out to her youngest daughter. Another otter girl passed her by, and she was quick to give her orders as well. "Nance, have you done your homework?"

The teen grumbled under her breath. "Yes mum." She replied with a slight roll of her eyes.

"I'll have none of that cheek missy. Exams start tomorrow, y'better has studied that's all I'll say." Paws up in exasperation the otter wife spied Beth, and her tone changed drastically. "Did you have a good sleep deary? I was just about to order a curry for tea. You do like curry don't you?"

"Yeah, I like Indian food." Beth nodded slowly; partly afraid of what May might say if she didn't.

The two young boys perked up excitedly at the mention of take out. "Curry for tea brilliant! I want mine extra spicy."

"I want mine extra spicy too." His brother added.

"Do not, ye only want it 'cos I does."

"Na uh, I always likes extra spice."

"Then how come y'didn't get it that way last time?"

May quickly intervened. "Willy, Durvy, Enough of your foolishness. You'll eat what I get you an' be grateful you have food t'eat."

Beth very slowly inched away from the kitchen. Nance the Brookback's eldest daughter sat on the chesterfield with one of her textbooks. She wasn't exactly studying, just holding the book in place to hide that she was playing with her mobile phone. Seeing this Beth offered her a smile, wishing she had that SIM card her father promised to get her. Here she was on the ground several hours now, and hadn't sent one text message. Her paws were itching to reconnect with her world.

"They always like this?" Beth tried to strike up conversation with her fellow youth.

Peering up from the tiny screen Nance nodded. "Oh aye, or worse. Willy and Durvy are a regular pair of brats." Her head quickly focused back to the screen.

"So…um… are you, like, working on the dig site too?" Beth ventured asking. It would be nice to make friends her own age.

Peering up again the otter shook her head. "Naw, heh, what do I looks like t'ye mate? Some sorta mole? I don't go digging in none o'that dirt. Got me a summer job anyhow. Once school's out I'm helping Mrs. Grimp from up over the hill. She has a little sweet shop not far from here, and agreed t'take me on at seven quid an hour."

Although Beth was a bit disappointed that Nance wasn't going to be at the dig site, she could see the excitement in the young otter's eyes. "That sounds awesome."

"I know right?" Nance continued to beam as she set aside her textbook. Her mother was too busy with her younger siblings to enforce her studying. "D'ye play video games?"

Beth shrugged."Depends."

"Well, I just got this new dance game for season-day. Really cool, come on I'll show ye." Hopping up to her paws, she scooped up her book and hurried towards the room she shared with her sister.

May smiled watching the young squirrel and otter scamper off together. Pleased that they were getting along so well. Beth seemed to be such a sweet young squirrel, and it wouldn't hurt if some of her manners rubbed off on Nance. All previous instructions to study seemed forgotten.

Once the cottage was in order, Wally dropped Dan off at the car dealership to pick up the car he was leasing for the season.

"I'll leave this one t'ye mate. Remember, left side o'the road yeah?" winking broadly Wally clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I'll see y'back at the house. I suggest you and the little miss try t'get some sleep. We start five in the morning. Wit, or witout ye."

Dan got out of the car, giving his friend a comical salute. "Aye aye Skipper!" Returning the wink he crossed the parking lot. He was anxious to start. It had been over a season since he had done any archaeological work, most of his work now kept him in the classroom. Dan wondered if he would sleep a wink. He could almost smell the dirt and the clay that would surround him for the rest of the season. Giddy with excitement, he nearly tripped on the step leading up to the dealership office. Oh what fun this season was going to bring.


	5. Chapter 5

Five in the morning seems to come earlier for some creatures. The alarm clock rang its dreadful call. After three attempts to wake his daughter, Dan resorted to threatening to leave her behind. It worked; Beth woke up, showered and dressed. Then, after a hasty breakfast of toast and orange juice, it was into the car.

A low mist hung over the woodlands and plain. The drive to the ridge site was largely uneventful. There was very little traffic on the roads at that early hour. Construction had stopped at the site, however lories and tractors were still parked at a make shift parking lot. A camping caravan was set up to be used as a kitchen and break area.

Wally got a large tool box out of his car, holding the handle in one paw he hoisted a large spool of twine up on his shoulder. "Well look who finally decided t'wake up?"

Dan pointed towards Beth. "Talk to the youngster."

"Shame on y'mate, trying t'blame yer tardiness on yer own daughter. Shocking ain't he Beth?" The otter winked towards the teenager carrying his load as though it weighed little at all.

Before Dan arrived in Mossflower, some of the digging had already begun. Where the young hare's remains had been found a wider area had been uncovered. The area was protected by a tarp. This was already sectioned off with twine forming an orange grid over the land. As the three approached a figure could be seen hammering in small pegs to hold down additional grid lines. He stood and checked his work, scribbling some notes in a note book he kept tucked in his tool belt. The lanky beast turned, and could be clearly identified as a ferret. Peering into the mist he spied the approaching creatures and waved.

Dan couldn't believe his eyes cupping his paws he shouted. "You're not supposed to be here!"

The ferret made a rude gesture with his paw and went back to work.

"Who's that?" Beth ventured to ask, as they walked closer to the site.

"That would be Dr. Bulfie Daclaw esquire. " Dan chuckled.

"Huh?"

"Bulfie's an old friend from university. He teaches with Wally, come on, oh he's a bit rough around the edges but friendly enough." Her father explained.

Setting his small hammer into his belt the ferret hugged the squirrel. The friends hadn't seen one another in many long seasons. "'ello bushy, fancy seeing you all the way out 'ere."

"I could say the same to you ferret-face. Thought you were working on some shipwreck out Sampetra way?"

"Oh I was supposed to." The ferret sighed heavily. "I should be sitting on a beach right now drinking rum. Instead I'm stuck here, playing ferrets in the mist wit' ye muckers."

"What happened then Bulfie?" Dan asked, from the corner of his eye he caught Wally trying to warn him not to ask.

The ferret gritted his teeth crossly, having spied Beth he was trying very hard to keep his language civil. "The estranged missus decided t'stretch the divorce proceedings, we started this past winter through to the summer. Needless t'say, I can't very well get out of the country any time soon. Not with 'er trying t'get full custody o'me kids. "Fuming and muttering a few choice words under his breath the ferret shrugged. "So here I be." He saw the look on his friend's face. "Naw, don't ye worry about me. We're goin' t'ave a grand season. Just like ole times eh. "He nodded towards Beth. "This be Beth? Gosh, she's gotten right pretty. I met ye before missie, although y'was still in yer mum's belly at the time. Must say ye look far better out an' walking around." Never one to avoid work for too long, Bulfie trudged up taking the large spool of twine. "Any how, work t'do. Come on young 'un yer wit me t'day."

Beth glanced curiously at her father, not sure if it was a wise idea to go with this odd ferret. Dan nodded to her to go. Trying to catch up with the ferret's nimble steps she watched as he rolled along the spool of twine.

"What do you need me to do Dr. Daclaw." She asked politely.

"Y'can stop calling me that fer starters. On dig site y'can call me by me first name, Bulfie." He passed her his small hammer and a metal peg. "First things first we need t'lay out a grid so we knows where everything is placed when we finds it. That's why we started so early so we could set up. "He watched her closely to make sure she was listening. Pointing to the ground he made a hammering motion. "What I need ye t'do is put in the pegs so I can loop this cord through. Y'can do that yeah?"

His voice carried such a hint of concern, and Beth felt compelled to cheekily reply. "I'm sixteen; I'm not an idiot Bulfie."

"If y'say so." He chuckled and watched as she carried out her assigned task.

It didn't take Beth long to get the hang of this work. She would hammer in a peg; Bulfie would loop the orange twine in place. Then he wrote up the number and letter for that square of grid, and let Beth place the tag. The ferret was impressed the young squirrel seemed to catch on quickly. After twenty minutes of hammering, he allowed her to take over the tying of the twine. As she showed skill at this task, he decided to teach her other necessary skills. Taking out his note book, he slowly talked her through how to record data properly. Giving the squirrel a note book of her own, he oversaw her note making. Occasionally he would correct her where needed, and Beth took seriously any corrections he told her to make. By seven in the morning they had completed the grid making.

Stepping back Bulfie looked over their work. "I gotta say, that's a dandy looking grid."He nodded approvingly. "Alright, now the fun part! Want to see what we uncovered so far?"

Beth had been eyeing the tarp that covered the hole. Back home she had followed the story with her father. A body turned up at a construction site, and all sorts of rumours went around. After it was discovered that the site was very old more investigation had been ordered, and more bodies found. That was why her and her dad had arrived, to continue the dig. Her red brush tail flickered nervously, she was excited, but there was also something creepy about the whole thing. Inching along she followed Bulfie. The ferret stepped over the grid lines and very carefully lifted the tarp. There in the clay were two partly buried bodies. Beth squeaked with fright.

Chuckling lightly Bulfie held up a paw encouraging her closer. "They're not gonna bite ye Beth. What's got ye so jumpy?"

"Those are dead creatures." Beth pointed towards the bones, her eyes wide.

"Yes, haven't you been to the museum? You've seen those cat mummies from Egypt?"

Dan had taken his daughter many times to the Royal Ontario Museum. There were mummified creatures from Egypt on display there. Beth nodded slowly. "But, those are in a building. These are in the ground."

Dan and Wally came over, Dan was particularly anxious to see what had been uncovered so far. He spoke encouragingly to his daughter. "Bulfie is right, they can't hurt you sweet heart."

Beth just continued to point."Those are dead creatures."

As if to prove the point, the slight ferret gingerly sat next to one of the remains. "Trust me, if they 'ad any interest in harming any beast, t'would be me." He reached up a paw for the young squirrel to join him.

Very slowly walking over the grid, Beth nervously sat on the grass looking down at the remains.

"There y'go, y' can even talk t'them if ye like. Sometimes I likes t'give them names. "

Wally shook his head, and rolled his eye."Oh aye, y'should hear 'im yammering on t'them. Don't know why y'does that. But I swears if they ever answers I'm packing up an' going."

"Away wit ye river walloper. They give me lots o'answers. Not saying nothing o'course, but they don't has to. "He turned very seriously towards the remains of the hares. "Listen mates, this up 'ere is me friend Beth. Now, she's a bit afraid o'ye. But, I'm sure by season's end ye'll be grand old friends." He then turned to Beth. "Well don't be rude, say hello."

Trying not to laugh, the young squirrel waved to the bones. "Hi guys."

"Well actually, this tall fella is male. But this smaller one is female." Bulfie explained pointing out the distinguishing features. "You can look at the pelvic bones to help find gender, that's the most obvious way. Sometimes if you see lots of scratches inside the pelvis, it can tell us that a female has had lots of children. However with this one…" He leaned in pointing with his pencil towards the small exposed bone. "See, it is still very narrow, she was young, probably younger than you. Not likely she gave birth. Told ye they had lots to tell me. What do y'say we name 'em eh?" Scratching his ear the ferret pondered. "This girly can be Bertha an' what about the fella?"

As it fell to her Beth pursed her lips thinking hard. "Bob?"

"Humph, Bertha and Bob indeed. What sort of monikers are those for a pair of hares? Daclaw what in the name of seasons are you doing? I thought you would have started the bally excavation by now, not tittering about like blooming youngsters wot. "

Beth turned to see a rather portly older hare hovering over them. He wore a neat tweed jacket, complete with shirt and tie. His face turned down in a frown, clearly not impressed.

While Bulfie didn't seem to be fazed by this hare, Dan and Wally both nodded their heads respectfully. Wally spoke up quickly. "Dr. Lockben, we thought you weren't coming today."

The hare turned to Wally, puffing up some. "Nonsense m'boy wouldn't miss this for the world. Now then chaps, are we going to sit about like ducks on a daisy chain, or are we going to set to work? Come along now, haven't got all jolly day wot wot."

Bulfie got up and dusted himself off retrieving his tool kit. Wally went to speak with Dr. Lockben in the trailer leaving Beth with her father. The young squirrel was giggling lightly, having held it in the moment the hare spoke. Dan was quick to scold her.

"Don't laugh at Dr. Lockben."

"But dad, come on, didn't you hear him." She giggled again.

"Shh… That's rude Beth. Dr. Lockben is the dean of history and archaeological departments at St. Ninian's university. Simply put, he's the boss around here. "

Dr. Lockben, or Sackfirth Septimus Llewellyn Lockben to give the hare his full name, sat at the small table in the caravan. Wally passed him a mug of tea and sat across.

"How goes the morning?" the hare asked sipping the hot beverage.

"Well enough sir, Bulfie and Beth finished all the grid work, now we're set to start uncovering more earth."

The hare raised a brow. "Beth? Ah, the squirrel gel. Firdance's gel am I right?"

Wally nodded. "Aye sir."

Finishing his tea the hare rose removing his jacket and hanging it on a hook. "Well then, good job all around. Let's see what secrets our fallen friends feel like giving up to us."


	6. Chapter 6

Beth, was assigned photography duty. The Nikon camera Bulfie passed onto her was quite heavy in her paws. The zoom lens alone seemed to be bigger than she. Both the ferret and her father had explained the importance, of photographing every detail of the dig.

"Remember Beth, these aren't Facebook photos." Dan warned, watching his daughter get used to the feel of the camera. The young squirrel took several experimental shots. When her father's back was turned, she held the camera out posing for a shot herself.

The hare and otter emerged once more from the trailer. Beth hastily tried to look busy, taking photos of the site. Dr. Lockben adjusted his suspenders, pacing about the grid and nodding approvingly.

"Well done Chaps. Now then Miss, keep taking those snaps. Don't worry about taking too many. Best to have too many than too few wot?" he smiled, and climbed over the lines to join the others.

Bulfie looked up, tugging an ear to Lockben. "Look at dis. Seems our matey Bob has more t' tell us. Or should I say 'tenant Bob." He waved a paw to the young squirrel. "Take a photo o' this missie." He set out a small ruler and showed the girl how to photograph the scraps of fabric.

Lockben took his glasses out of his breast pocket, kneeling down to get a better look at the rank marks from the sleeve. "It does appear to be the marks of a Long Patrol Lieutenant, any other indentifying markers. Would be ideal if we could sort out who this chap was."

The ferret looked over the now, nearly fully exposed body. "No name indicated on what remains of his uniform. Although his rank may tell us something. If we could get our paws on the Long Patrol records, there may be a casualties list. It was during the rule of Lord Russano that detailed records were kept at Salamandastron."

"Ah yes, but remember Daclaw, these creatures served under Lady Cregga the first. Lord Russano, was but a babe when these beasts perished. There may not be complete records. Even if there were, Salamandastron is rather protective of who has access to their historical documents. It is far more difficult to get ones paws on those, than it is to see the records of Redwall Abbey." The hare spoke, slowly getting back to his paws.

"Ah, but we do know somebeast, who just might be able to get the records." Wally smiled knowingly. "Jenny Balid."

"Ms. Balid?" Dr. Lockben's ears flexed upright. "I didn't think she was interested in this project." He sniffed, turning up his nose.

"Jen, not interested in this. " Wally motioned to the bones of the long dead hare. "This is the sort of thing she lives for."

Beth looped the strap of the camera about her neck. Nudging her father, she whispered. "Who're they talking about?"

Dan smiled, whispering a quick reply. "Jenifer is another historian. She writes mostly. A few seasons back, she published her first book on Salamandastron and The Long Patrol, gained quite a bit of attention for it. "

Lockben huffed, puffing up his pouch like cheeks. "I still have my doubts, that she will be able to get any access. Although I suppose it won't hurt to bally well try."

Hours seemed to pass, and Beth continued to follow her assigned task. She did hope that her father or one of the others might permit her to participate in the dig, as photography was quickly losing its luster. The sun was creeping higher and higher over the ridge site. Checking her watch, it seemed to be nearly midday. They would be breaking for lunch soon, however it appeared Beth was the only one to notice. The other four were busy working away, tiny trowels and brushes carefully moving miniscule amounts of soil. Wally had set up a sifting screen, to ensure no tiny artifact had gone missing. The young squirrel slumped on the grass, listening to the muffled conversations.

At last the boring doldrums were interrupted when Bulfie stood upright on his hind paws. Holding up his trowel he loudly announced. "Found another one!"

All paws quickly hurried to the ferret's side, even Beth was anxious to see what he found. Of course her excitement was short lived, when all there was to see, was the remains of a bedroll wrapped around what appeared to be another uniform.

"There's a body in all that?" Beth was skeptical at the small protruding fabric.

Dr. Lockben nodded."Of course m'dear gel. If that bit of fabric is what I suspect it is, I should think the creature was very young when he died. "Motioning that Beth should take photographs he continued explaining. "The practice pre-dates this period of course. There are some absolutely beautifully preserved examples in northern hare burial sites. When a leveret or young hare died while travelling, the others would wrap them up in their bedroll before setting them in the earth. "He continued as the young squirrel finished taking pictures and looked up in interest. "Perhaps you've noticed all the hares we've found were facing west?"

Beth hadn't noticed this, but continued to listen closely to the hare.

"When Long Patrol hares, die in battle away from their home. They lay looking back t'wards their mountain. However, when they perish on the shores of Salamandastron they are laid to rest facing away from the mountain. Even in death, they protect the place dontcha know."

"I didn't know that sir." Beth smiled politely.

"It will be interesting if we find any Redwallers on this site. I wonder if they too will face west, or pointed towards the Abbey?" Dan wondered looking up from where he dusted away at the bones of one of the long dead hares.

There were murmurs of agreement from the others, all equally curious as to the positioning of bodies. Wally pulled out a notebook from his back pocket, and hastily began making notes. Checking his watch he noticed the time.

"Goodness, mates we're gonna miss lunch if we keep up like this." Tucking a pencil behind his ear he brushed some of the dirt from his paws.

Beth had anxiously waited for somebeast to point this tiny detail out. She was famished, not to mention a little bored watching the others work. Her father sat back rubbing his knees. To himself, he lamented his days of youth, when his joints could withstand this crouching and bending far easier.

"No need for us all to leave. We could pick something up in town. Any suggestions?" The squirrel looked to his friends for their opinions.

Bulfie tucked his trowel into his work belt. "'suppose I'll do the run this time round. Fish 'n Chips work for everybeast?"

The hare raised a paw clearing his throat. He was about to speak, when the ferret cut him off.

"Right, extra large summer salad, dressing on the side, and lots of walnuts. " Bulfie winked knowing the hare's tastes all too well.

"Humph, indeed." Dr. Lockben set back to work, his nose twitched at the ferrets impertinence.

Dan nodded, "Sounds fine by me. Say, take Beth with you?"

The young squirrel perked up, at the prospect of going out to run the simple errand. Bulfie shrugged and motioned for her to follow. "Come along young 'un." He smiled and brushed his paws off in his jeans.

Wally called out to them as they walked towards the car. "Watch it now missie ferrets are notoriously bad drivers." Again Bulfie made a rude paw motion, and then unlocked the car doors.

It felt a little strange to Beth sitting in the front left seat. She buckled the seatbelt and casually looked around the car's interior. In the rear seats she spied two booster seats. One predominately blue, with a print of pirate ships on the fabric. The other purple with a princess theme.

"How old are your kids?" She asked as the ferret pulled away from the make-shift drive way.

Bulfie paused a moment, then catching sight of the seats in the rearview mirror, smiled. "My daughter Raddi, is seven seasons old. An'me little fella, Rinn, will be five in a few weeks. "As he spoke it was plain to see the pride he had for his young children.

As the car meandered though the woodland roads few words passed between the teenage squirrel and the ferret. It seemed Bulfie had a particular interest in folk music. The CD playing was a collection of shanties, ballads and reels. Nothing Beth recognized, not that she was especially well versed in such things. Every now and again she would peer over and see the ferret mouthing the words.

"Now Flinky was a wise 'un, as any stoat could find.

For foxes or for searats this beastie paid no mind.

T'was in the woods o' Mossflower he commenced his wild career.

An' many a foolish fox would do smart t'lend an ear.

The stoats are going over the stoats are going down.

All heading down to southlands where food and drink abound.

Oh, the stoats are going over the stoats are going down.

All heading down to southlands where food and drink abound."

"What's that song about?" Beth asked as an instrumental reel of fiddles and drums picked up.

"'tis an old song, 'bout a clever stoat an' his mate who outwit some searats and travel south with a small band of robbers." Bulfie explained, smiling at the squirrel's curiosity.

As Beth soon learned, most of the songs carried the same themes. Many of the songs even borrowed from the same tune. All focused around the antics, or crimes of various ferrets, stoats or weasels. Tales of: highway-beasts, pick-pockets, or military deserters. Two or three more songs went by, before the car pulled up to a small restaurant.

They got out, and found the take out line-up to be rather long. However, the other creatures seemed to be moving quickly. There was the strong smell of cooking oils, chips and vinegar on the air. The other beasts in line were mostly otters, with a scattering of shrews and bank voles. Bulfie was the only ferret; Beth never thought anything of this at first. Then, as they continued to wait in line, she couldn't help but notice eyes falling upon the pair of them. It was uncomfortable to say the least. The family of voles that arrived moments before kept shuffling forward, wanting to keep distance between them and the ferret. After a time, if was at last their turn to place an order. Bulfie strode forward, smiling pleasantly at the shrew working at the order counter.

"Hello mate, I'll 'ave four orders o' fish 'n chips. One with hotroot seasoning on the chips. Also one o' those extra large summer salads, lots of walnuts and dressing on the side please. "

The shrew glanced up from his stool behind the counter. He eyed the ferret a moment before typing the order into the cash register. "Out o'hotroot seasoning." He muttered.

"What? Out of hotroot seasoning?" Bulfie spoke up, loud enough for others in line to hear. "Sure, the only reason I comes 'ere, is for that." He eyed a number of otters waiting to be served.

"All out." The shrew spoke again.

The ferret suspected this shrew wanted him out of the shop as quickly as possible, rather than take the extra time to prepare his order. Smiling politely he turned casually to face he cue behind him. "Sorry mates, looks like they're out o'hotroot seasoning."

A group of otters that had arrived together, held a quick conference, and left the restaurant. Otters were known for their love of the spicy seasoning, many would include it in every meal. If there was no hotroot to be had here, they weren't going to order. Watching customers leaving, the shrew became nervous. Hastily he hopped down from his stool and scurried into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a large plastic container, containing the prized ingredient. Climbing up onto his stool the shrew announced.

"Look, just went t'the kitchen, seems we had some left after all." Of course, he wasn't addressing Bulfie; his announcement was aimed at keeping the many otter customers from leaving.

Beth carried the paper bags of take out, spicy chips and all. She was a little concerned about what had happened in the restaurant. "Why did that shrew lie to us?"

Opening the car doors, the ferret helped hold the food so she could buckle her seatbelt. "He just wanted us to leave is all."

"But why?"

Bulfie sighed, and started the engine. "Well, ducky, I'm a ferret. Some folks ain't comfortable around ferrets, stoat or weasels. They're even less comfortable around rats and foxes. I 'suppose when y' build your cultural identity up on being baddies, things just tend t' stick."

"But you're not bad." Beth interjected.

"Naw, I guess not. But, we vermin don't exactly blend in."

The young squirrel was shocked that Bulfie would use the word vermin. It was largely considered a rude term, by modern standards. In all of her classes, teachers referred to the group by species name, rather than lumping them all together. This of course took up a lot of text, and time, to rattle off all the species that woodlanders historically fought against, but it avoided the rude V word.

"Y'see Beth, the crime rate is higher among us than any other group of beasts. In the news the other day it was announced there are more rats and foxes, on government assistance than any other species. I'm the first ferret in me family t' graduate high school. First t'even go to university. All me mates from me old neighbourhood 'ave either been in prison, or currently are. 'tis easy for them to fear us. In the over two hundred years since we stopped fighting one another, we 'ain't exactly tried t'fit in." Bulfie spoke slowly, then paused and smiled.

"Don't worry yer head about none o' that. An' hold on t'the food. Don't want it falling all over the place."


	7. Chapter 7

Around seven in the evening, the crew working on the dig called it a night. Each beast parted ways after ensuring their gear was packed up, and the dig was safely covered with a tarp. Over-night security had been hired to ensure nothing happened to the site during the evening hours. The last thing they needed was somebeast deciding to go on a treasure hunt of their own.

Dr. Stepimus Lockben, had the longest commute home. He lived further into the countryside, about forty-five minutes on the motorway, then another twenty over the woodland roads. Through the meandering drive of neatly trimmed rose bushes, and ivy covered bricks, the hare finally came to his own cottage. Fethringsol Cottage, had been one of the properties owned by his late uncle Francis Lockben. A hare renown for both his fortune, and eccentric behavior. As he had no children of his own, the cottage was left to his nephew Septimus and his family. It had served as their home ever since.

Parking the car, the hare waved a paw towards the mole gardener. Jon Soilfurr and his wife Marb had worked for the Lockben's for seasons. Jon was a skilled handy-beast and gardener, while Marb was a skilled cook, and excellent housekeeper. As any polite mole would do, Jon tugged his snout as the hare got out of his car.

"Hurr, gud day to ee doc Locken." He waved his digging claws cheerfully and went back to trimming the hedge.

"Hello Jon, how's the family?"

"gudd gudd." The mole nodded not looking up from his work. Jon was a mole of few words.

Dr. Lockben took off his jacket and shoes in the main hall way. It felt to be back at the cottage after such a long day working in the outdoors. While this dig was exciting, Septimus usually worked in an office.

"Is that you Septimus?" A voice rang out from another room.

"Yes M'dear, sorry I'm a bit tardy this evening. Do hope I haven't missed supper." He fixed the collar on his shirt and followed the voice of his wife. He could hear another voice, wriggling his ears he called out. "Do we have guests Claria?"

Stepping out from the small office Claria Lockben waved her husband to come closer. "No, not exactly. Come, I have something to show you, 'tis absolutely brilliant." Beaming she hurried back into the office.

He followed, still a little confused. In the small study, Claria was sat at the desk. She rarely used the computer, not really comfortable with technology. She liked it for reading the news, and the family's emails. Every morning since they first set up email, Claria would print the daily emails and bring them to her husband with his morning tea. The family went through many packages of paper each season, due to this little tradition.

Glancing towards the computer screen, he spied the face of male hare staring back at him. This fellow it seemed, was sitting at his desk, a great map of the world in the background. While he was nearly thirty seasons old he wore an orange t-shirt with: _ I do my own stunts _ printed across it in bold lettering. About his neck, was a braded rope necklace. Both these things not the sort of attire Septimus approved of.

The male hare waved smiling. "Hello father."

Septimus blinked. "Wot is all this business."

Before his wife could explain the video of his son spoke up. "It's called Skype father, absolutely spiffin invention. You use these webcams right, an' it's just like making a telephone call only with video. So 'ere I am, in bally Madrid talking to the pair of you in Mossflower. Brilliant isn't it? Oh, Sackfirth has it too now, so you and mum can speak with him and the grandkids."

Septimus nodded approvingly. Speaking loudly into the computer's microphone in reply. "Jolly good, Quince."

"Dad, y'don't have to shout. I can hear you loud an' clear sah." The cheeky hare winked. Then excitedly he clapped his paws. "Big news. The journal is sending me t'South Africa, for four weeks to do some photography for them. " Quince was a travel writer and avid photographer. This suited his traveling spirit perfectly, although it gave his mother much to worry about.

"I hope told them you were not going Quince Wilfrand Sackfirth Lockben." Claria spoke up. "I've been watching the news, I don't want you getting tangled up in any sort of violence or danger. Hard enough with you and Sackfirth so far from home. "

"Mum, I'll be fine. Don't worry so much. An' Sackfirth is in Southwards, that's hardly far from home. 'sides I'm sure y' have enough to worry about with Porty. Don't waste yer worries on me mum."

As if on cue there was a loud rumble of a truck outside the cottage.

"What in seasons name is that?" Claira wondered out loud.

"Not sure," Stepimus leaned in towards the mic once more. "'fraid I must go now Quince. I'll see you, er, chat with you, er wotever with you, some other time." Leaving the office he returned to the hall. As he opened the front door he spied a tow truck hauling a heavily damaged car. The very car he had given his youngest son Portan. There was a ten season gap between Portan Fedlric Lockben and the second son Quince. While his parents were overjoyed with his arrival, he was a bit of a surprise. As he was the only Lockben child still living at home, he frequently stepped over the line with his father. It would appear at times, that Portan went out of his way, just to aggravate his father. This incident was no exception.

Ears straight up, and cheeks puffed out, Stepimus stomped towards his youngest. "What in the name of all bogglewobbled seasons is this about? Porty you lop-eared ripscutt whatever have you done?"

The teenage hare looked rather nonchalant about the damaged car still on the tow-truck. "Oh, this, y'see father I was driving home from football practice, and a bally post must 'ave jumped out in front of me. I'm sure it isn't nearly as bad as it looks. The driver was even kind enough t'give me a ride home. Decent sort of chap, that."

The driver in question handed Portan a slip of paper, then drove off with the damaged car.

"Here father, the good chap says m'car will be fixed by week's end. He's the bill, so that you can take care of it. " He casually passed the paper over to his father's paws. His mannerisms apparently unable to notice his father fuming beside him.

"You have some brass nerve m'boy to lollop up t'me and hand be the blooming bill." Septimus glanced over the paper, it did nothing to quell his anger. "Eighty-seven pounds for the tow and another seven hundred for estimated repairs? I say sirrah, I won't be footing this expense for you."

Portan looked surprised. "Won't pay for the repairs? But how am I jolly well supposed t'go anywhere?"

Folding up the bill, his father began shuffled back towards the house. "You can take public transport, an' you can get a job t'pay for those dashed repairs."

Wrinkling his nose, Portan followed several paces behind, muttering. "Public transport indeed, what am I on, assistance or some rubbish like that?"

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A ring of the telephone awoke Wally and his wife May. Blinking several times the otter glanced toward the alarm clock on the bedside table. "Oh for the love o' all things bright an' beautiful, who's calling at three in the morning?" He grumbled then pulled the pillow over his head. Wally hoped that, whoever it might be, would realize the late hour and call back later. The phone didn't stop ringing.

May prodded her husband's shoulder. "You'll have t'answer it."

"No." Came the muffled reply, from under the pillow.

"Wally, might be important."

"Or it could be a bloody telemarketer. I'm sleeping, like any sensible beast should be."

Sighing, May got to her paws and out of bed. "Well I'm going to see who it is. They're being persistent, must be important."

There was some inaudible mumbles from under the pillow as the otter-wife answered the telephone. A few moments passed, Wally was just about to fall back into slumbers when his wife returned.

"Wally, wake up, it's the police. There's been a robbery at the dig site."


	8. Chapter 8

Dan left as soon as he got word of what had happened. Leaving a note for Beth, he quickly changed and drove out to the site. There were two police cars on the scene when he arrived. As there were no street lamps, and the sun had not yet come up, the bright lights of headlights and flashlights circled around everybeast. The squirrel could make out the figure of Wally, speaking with one of the constables.

"Wally, what's happened?" Dan called out, running over, heart in his throat.

The mouse constable paused in his note taking, he turned towards Dan. The otter made motion bidding the constable not to worry.

"Seems somebeast 'as taken t'doing some digging on their own." Wally's voice had lost the usual jovial spirit. "Lockben is here too, he's speaking with the police sergeant in the caravan."

"Do we know what was taken?"

The otter walked towards the string grid. It had been trampled, by paws. Both squirrel and otter were cautious not to get too close, as they didn't wish to hinder investigations. Wally pointed his light on the ground. Two deep shovel holes could be seen. Poking from the earth below corners of artifacts could be spied. "They dug in a part we hadn't uncovered yet. Had to say what was taken if anything. Perhaps they thought they would find valuables, some sort of souvenir? Worst thing mate, is the mess they left for us."

A long moment of silence passed, each lost in the thought of what damage these robbers cause their work. The silence was broken by none other than Bulfie, who as soon as he arrived, stormed up to the site, and let out a string of choice words.

"Hellsteeth! Look at this mess!" The ferret gritted his teeth, muttering foully under his breath. His banded eyes looked about at all the creatures assembled. In the darkness he eyed another ferret; a tall lanky fellow, with the same sable like features of Bulfie. This was one of the security guards, employed by the university to watch over the site. Like a madbest he made his way over, and then hauled the security guard up by the collar of his coat.

"Where the hell were you idjet when this was happening eh? 'Ave y'gone blind an' got mud down your lugs all at the same time? Listen rotbrain, y'best hope I don't find out ye or any o'yer mates was involved in this, otherwise…"

"Enough Daclaw!" Dr. Lockben exited the caravan accompanied by the police sergeant. "Put that creature down at once."

Realizing, that shaking the daylights out of another beast when surrounded by police wasn't a good idea, Bulfie complied.

The hare could see the rage in the ferret's eyes. While he outwardly didn't show it, he wanted to wring the guard's neck. "Best give your report to the sergeant and be on your way lad." He spoke coldly to the security guard. If he had his way, come morning the ferret would be out of a job. "Listen chaps, I'm just as cross as the next over this incident, but now is not the time to act foolishly. I'm not about to fluff over the nasty business, so I'll just say this: we may not recover what was taken. The police will do all they can for us, of course, but that means we'll have t'stop work a few days. A week at most I should think. Let the investigator whallahs do what they do. For now it is best we go back home, and try t'get some sleep."

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Beth's alarm went off at seven am, the young squirrel yawned, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed all day. After a few minutes she managed to pull herself away from the comforts of her bed. Expecting to hear her father trying to hurry her up, she quickly got a shower and dried her fur. Pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts she ran down the narrow stairs to get breakfast.

To her surprise her dad was already at the breakfast table, dressed, and staring into his untouched coffee.

"Good morning…" she spoke slowly, unsure of what caused the depressed look about her father's face.

After a moment or two of awkward silence, Dan explained to his daughter what had taken place. He tried to be positive, letting her know the police were doing everything they could. In the end he didn't know who he was trying to convince, his daughter, or himself. Beth sat before him, listening without a single question. When he finished she sighed.

"So what do we do in the meantime?"Leaning her cheek on a paw, Beth was the picture of crushed dreams. This was something Dan wasn't about to see continue.

"I'll tell you what we do. We carry on regardless. As we have some free time, I'm taking you somewhere special. "

The girl's eyes lit up." Where dad?"

"You know."

Squealing with excitement she leapt from her chair and hugged her father tightly.

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Dan was sure to park the car as close to the Abbey as possible. There was still a little walk involved, but Beth didn't seem to mind in the slightest. She carried a smile that she couldn't wipe off her face. When she wasn't looking he took a photo on his phone, to email home to her mother. What a change this was from the squirrel he saw this morning.

They, along with the many other visitors to the abbey would walk though the main gates. The high wooden doors were open for all to pass though. Beth craned her neck, to glance up at the ornate stone work of the archway. She had cold shivers run down her back. The walls were so high and sturdy, protecting the community within. How many creatures had passed these very gates? Beth got giddy just thinking of it.

It actually surprised her how large the grounds were. Somehow she thought it would be smaller. Once inside the gates, Redwall Abbey appeared to be a place lost in time. She watched as some of the tour groups gathered for their walking tour of the site. Her father had offered to buy tickets for one of the tours, but Beth knew her father could tell her just as much as any tour guide could.

Dan gave his daughter some time to soak the place in. They strolled through the orchards of fruit-trees, steering clear of the beehives as neither of them were fond of the insects. All along the walking path there were small plaques, or information boards, explaining various points of interest or importance. Dan motioned to one of them, a large board posted up beside the southern wall.

"Come look at this." Waiting for Beth to follow he explained. "That site we're working on, this is why they were there. When those creatures were alive, Redwall's south wall had begun to crumble. This is because Redwall was built on the site where the ancient fortress of Kotir once stood. There was also the threat of this warlord named Damug Warfang, and his hoard taking advantage of this weakness. So the hares tricked this warlord into taking his army up into the ridge to fight. It is said they went into battle with only three hundred beasts, not all of them trained warriors. Warfang was said to have an arm of a thousand. "

Beth listened, look up at the wall as her father related the story. "But how did they win?"

"Well, Lady Cregga the first arrived in the nick of time, and the skilled hares and brave woodlanders fought them off. In the end they returned to Redwall, repaired the wall, and lived happily ever after. "

"Except for Bertha and Lieutenant Bob." Beth cheekily pointed out.

"Yes, those, and the number of other creatures we will likely uncover." Wanting to turn attention away from the dig site he motioned towards the bellower.

"Did you know Redwall used to have one bell?"

"When did they get the second one?"

"The Joseph bell which was the first bell was damaged during the war of the Late Rose. It fell on Cluny, killing the rat, and breaking the bell. Abbot Mordalfus ordered that the bell be melted down and recast. From then on, it was the Matthias and Methuselah bells. "As he spoke they walked towards the tower. "Ah look they have a copy of the old bell's carvings on the board." Dan smiled. "Bless those Abbey beasts; they're so good at recording every detail."

Beth looked over the image. She didn't really understand what the strange inscriptions meant. "What is all this?"

"Badger script, ancient and few historians can translate it."

Beth ran a paw over the cool stones of the bell tower. Grinning broadly she spied a group of mice all wearing green habits. She couldn't help but stare, it seemed so strange to her.

"Who are they? Actors or something?" Her and her father had visited other historical sites, many employed actors to portray historical figured.

"Not likely." Dan explained. "Those are novice habits, Redwall is still an abbey. They still have an Abbot and everything."

"You mean they actually live here. "

Dan nodded. "Oh yes, and devote their lives to living as the abbey beasts of old did. They all take the same oath to heal the sick, feed the poor, and help the weak. Not to mention live a life of peace. "

"But if Redwall is such a peaceful place, why is its history so violent?"

Dan shrugged. "She's a strong building, many creatures wanted to use her as a fortress. They made the mistake of viewing peace and charity as weakness."

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After waiting in a line-up for over an hour, Dan and Beth were able to enter the main building. Of Redwall's interior, only The Great Hall was open for guests. The rest of the Abbey was closed to the public. Occasionally, other spaces would be opened, but on days such as this only the grounds and Great Hall were available to be viewed. It didn't matter of course, anybeast who came to see Redwall only wanted to see one thing.

Weaving through the sea of creatures Beth admired the stone work. Redwall had some of the most breathtaking stone reliefs in Mossflower. There were also the stain glass windows, many holding the images of past Abbey leaders or warriors. Then there was the frescos painted in the Renaissance. The most famous and controversial of these was a piece entitled: _Maid of the Ocean. _It depicted a mousemaid coiled up in a knotted rope, pulling herself from the sea. Abbot Alphonse was said to have commissioned the piece in the spring of 1508 to honour Mariel of Redwall, one of the female warriors of Redwall's past. What made it such a beautiful piece was the emotional response the image brought out in creatures. The maids face, so young, yet so determined to live hauntingly, looked out to the viewer. Beth could spot more than one tourist crying at the site of the painting. The controversy, came from rumours the model for the Mariel had been Alphonse's illegitimate child.

All these examples of art and architecture were beautiful, even inspiring. But that wasn't what they came to see. The one thing, every beast waited so long for, hung on the wall, behind a velvet rope. Beth's jaw dropped; there before her very eyes was the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. The one mouse that inspired not only Redwall, but an entire nation. It was said, that even in these modern times, some creatures saw his spirit. Although it had been a number of seasons since the Abbot of Redwall authenticated a sighing. The cloth figure framed by fleeing rats, stoats, weasels, ferrets, and even a wildcat watched over all. As the line moved, Beth caught her breath. Below the tapestry, contained in a glass case, was the sword of Martin. The blade held by every Redwall warrior, lost to the Abbey countless times only to be reclaimed. For all the battles it had been used in, the blade didn't even appear scratched. The red pommel stone as polished as it might have been the day it was set.

"Beth are you crying?" Her father whispered.

"Maybe just a little." Beth laughed as they stood gazing at the blade at tapestry.


	9. Chapter 9

A week after the police arrived to investigate the incident, they were no further ahead than when they began. The frustrations mounted, as the team prepared to return to working on the site. They not only had to contend with the damage caused by the criminals, but also any damage caused during the investigation. Grid lines had been moved, the site had been walked over by numerous paws, and it was enough to keep any one of them up all night with worry.

Before any of them could return to the site, there was still one more matter to see too. Jennifer Balid was in town, it would seem, she was as interested as meeting with the team as they were in seeing her. She arranged a lunch meeting in the restaurant of the hotel she was staying at. Bulfie had been somewhat reluctant to accept, but with some none to gentle encouragement from Wally, agreed.

Dan had left Beth with Wally's eldest daughter. The young squirrel and otter planned to spend the day shopping. Dan was worried about his daughter feeling lonely or out of place. Once he gave her spending money for the day, he quickly realized she was going to be just fine.

Wally, Bulfie, and Dan arrived together. They met with Septimus in the main lobby then proceeded to the restaurant. The squirrel hostess led them to the table, where an attractive weasel waited. She couldn't be any older than thirty-five seasons, although she appeared younger. She wore a formfitting black pantsuit, with a bright blue scarf loosely tied about her neck. Rising from where she sat she greeted the others. The otter moved forward hugging her warmly and planting a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Jennifer, y' looking well. How's the Western Shores treating ye?"

Shaking paws with every beast the weasel smiled. "Very well, thank you Wally. Please, sit, we have much to discuss."

Bulfie sat down, a little displeased that he ended up having to take the seat to Jennifer's right. The weasel seemed not to notice, or did a good job of ignoring the ferret's coldness about her. A waiter came by, and graciously she took the menu and began skimming though it.

"I am sorry to hear about the unfortunate events of last week." She began, not looking up from the menu.

"Well, the blighters won't get away with it. The police are continuing t'look into the wretched affair. We're back on site tomorrow. Should be able to take bally stock of the situation then wot." The hare replied, trying to downplay any concerns.

The waiter returned and took their orders, filling their glasses with ice water. While waiting they exchanged polite small talk. Dan spoke of taking Beth to the Abbey, and of recent events in Toronto. Septimus shared his latest technology introduction. After several minutes of this Wally got right down to business.

"Jenny we were hoping y'might be able to assist our project. We've been able to uncover several interesting identifying markings on remains. What we would like to do is get our paws on the Salamandastron records and try to put names to a few." He produced print outs of several photos Beth had taken.

The weasel looked over the print outs. Her face lighting up as she skimmed through them. "Goodness, the preservation is most impressive. " She continued looking through the photos a moment longer before returning them to the otter. "I can certainly try to get you access to the required records. However, I'm also here to ask things of you."

Bulfie huffed a little. "No surprise there."

Rather than look insulted Jennifer just smiled and shrugged. "St. Ninian's University has taken charge of the project. It seems a logical choice, as you have a brilliant team, and are located in the area. However, Salamandastron's Lord Urthbriar has some concerns about this dig. Primarily the lack of consultation Salamandastron has been given regarding this dig. Lord Urthbriar, fears that the dig may not be culturally sensitive."

"Culturally sensitive? What's that supposed to mean exactly?" Bulfie spoke up once the weasel had paused.

Taking a slow sip of her ice water Jennifer continued. "It means that Lord Urthbriar wants to be kept informed. Bulfie, if you think I'm favouring Salamandastron's politics over the work you're doing, think again. Lord Urthbriar wanted to send his own team to continue the work. I managed to convince him that the four of you were more than competent enough to lead the work. However, last week's incident has made him question this some. In short, he wants to be informed of everything regarding the remains of any Long Patrol warriors. He is willing to finance most of the expenses associated with the dig and any research that goes with it. He also wishes to meet and discuss these concerns further. Owing to the Badgerlords busy schedule I think I can arrange a meeting during: The Regimental Annual Summer Garden Party. Dr. Lockben perhaps you would like to come along. When I mentioned your involvement Lord Urthbriar recalled you and your wife quite fondly from a previous visit. "

The hare twirled the ice around in his glass. He was the obvious choice, being a hare he fit in quite well with Salamandastron. He had met the Badgerlord several times at other functions, so that would help as well. "I 'suppose it ought t'be me. What's the date? Must be coming up rather soon."

Jennifer nodded. "Yes, July seventh actually."

Septimus shook his head."Sorry old gel can't do it then. One of you other chaps will have t'make the trip. The seventh of July is Claria's an' my wedding anniversary. I'm not about to do business on such a day, value m'life far too much dontcha know."

When eyes fell upon Wally he shook his head. "Don't look at me mates; I'm needed at t dig site. Ain't much for formal gatherings anyhow."

Bulfie shook his head as well, although no beast expected him to offer to go."I ain't going that much is sure."

It seemed it was up to Dan. "Well, don't want to leave Beth behind. I suppose I'll go, but only if you can arrange for my daughter to travel with me."

Their food arrived; Jennifer carefully picked every bone out of her fish before eating. "That shouldn't be a problem Dan." She spoke before taking her first mouthful.

Silence fell over the table; each creature was momentarily caught up in the meal before them. Septimus wiped his lips with a napkin. " 'fraid I have more news to add. Redwall Abbey has also voiced interest in the site. The office of the Abbot, contacted my office this morning. Seems Father Alfred wishes to make an official visit of the site. Redwall would like to offer up some words on behalf of the discovery, honouring the lives lost, or some such business. Media will be involved. They're preparing a press release to be sent out by the end of this week. "

Bulfie set down his sandwich rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "Why can't these creatures just let us work."

"Because, it is historically significant, creatures care about this." Jennifer explained.

"Funny, I don't recall all this fuss about that find four seasons back. You recall the one Jennifer? A shipwreck north of Salamandastron. The remains of a few weasels, ferrets and stoats were found. Artifacts suggested Long Patrol involvement, but did 'is lordship wish to continue study. No, funding was cut on that project. Before the entire site could be excavated work had to cease an' flats were built over the site. "

Jennifer sighed. " I remember the incident Bulfie, very unfortunate. "

Wally leaned forward and kicked Bulfie under the table. Giving his ferret friend a look, Bulfie made no further comment.

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Once lunch was over the creatures parted ways. Dr. Lockben and Jennifer excused themselves to further discuss gaining access to Salamandastron's records. Wally left with the others to drive them home.

"What was that about Bulfie?" the otter questioned once they were well away.

"What was what about?"

"If looks could kill, you would 'ave done in Jenny three times over. What's going on between the two of ye?"

The ferret looked up innocently. "Nothing. " When it seemed that response wouldn't satisfy Wally he shrugged. "Just don't like that attitude o'hers. She spends far too much time rubbing elbows with that crowd at Salamandastron."

"Humph, wouldn't 'ave taken y'to be speciest." Wally shook his head.

This enraged Bulfie."Me! Of all creatures y'think I am. "

"Well, you don't seem very happy about a weasel gaining the respect of the Lord of Salamandastron."

"Isn't that. " Bulfie sighed. "It is just when she carried on about cultural sensitivities, oh that riles me fur right up. Remember that guest lecture she did at the university, the one of Field Marshal Frumworthy and his actions in The First World War? The whole presentation focused around the hare's heroism, the same story we've heard for untold seasons. Lots o'historical papers have come up questioning some of Frumworthy's tactics. She had the chance to read though not only, his reports, but his private letters. I've had the chance t'see a few o'those, an'let me tell ye, they don't look very highly on my sort, or her's. But did Jennifer speak on, how that beast thought we were good for nothing more than cannon fodder? No. She didn't even make mention, that of the three hundred and sixteen creatures he ordered executed under court marshal, three hundred and seven were: ferrets, stoats, weasels, rats or foxes. I just find it hard to stomach her sometimes, that's all."

Getting in the car the ferret said nothing more about the weasel. Wally decided not to make mention of it either. His ferret friend could easily get caught up in such debates. Bulfie knew they needed Jennifer, there was no doubt about that. He would be able to set aside and disagreements in viewpoints for the betterment of the dig. He just hoped she wouldn't be frequently visiting, although he suspected they wouldn't be able to pry the weasel away.


	10. Chapter 10

**July**

Jennifer had taken care of all the travel arrangements. Only a few days after their lunch meeting, the weasel emailed Dan with the full travel itinerary. Included in this was information on the required dress code. A creature couldn't attend a Salamandastron event, not dressed appropriately after all. Finding an appropriate morning coat to accompany the standard morning dress was fairly easy. Dan arranged to rent the attire from a tailor shop suggested to him by Dr. Lockben. For Beth, finding the right outfit proved a little trickier. Dan dared not go shopping with the teenager, instead sought the help of May. The otterwife was all too happy to help. The pair spent an entire day shopping, and by Beth's admission tried on nearly thirty dresses. Dan dreaded what it would be like when the time came to go shopping for her graduation dress, and dared not think about wedding dresses. At long last the outfit was selected. As it was a garden party the right hat had to be found as well.

"It all seems so silly Dad" Beth giggled as she took the garment bag out of the closet.

"That's the way beasts dress for formal events here. "Her father explained with a smile.

Outside there was the honk of the taxi. Dan carried their suitcase, allowing Beth to take the delicate garment bags. Mindful of the steep stairs, the squirrels made their way towards the door. Dan waved a friendly paw towards the mole taxi driver as he locked up their rental cottage. The cheerful looking creature waddled up and relieved Dan of his load.

"Gud day to ee zurr. Where youm be off to?" he asked in the quaint mole-speech.

"The airport please."

Waiting for his passengers to buckle up their seatbelts the mole nodded his sable head. "Roight zurr." He couldn't help but notice the garment bags and ventured to ask. "Hurr youm be off to ee wedding?"

Beth shook her head. "No, we're going to Salamandastron." The youth couldn't hide the excitement in her voice.

"Burr, oi do loves hurr sea soid." He smiled and drove off towards the main road.

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With Dan and Beth off to Salamandastron, and Dr. Lockben taking time off to spend time with his wife, Bulfie took it into his own paws to find replacements. By the time Wally pulled up to the site, he found the ferret pacing in drill sergeant fashion around four students. The four, a stoat, mouse, and pair of weasels, each clutched clipboards and various supplies their instructor had bestowed upon them.

"What's all this?" Wally ventured to ask, as he came up towards them.

Bulfie turned about, grinning broadly. "Best idea I've had all season." He spoke, ignoring the students alongside them. "I stole Dr. Wicky's research students."

The otter blinked, and then passed another look towards the four. "Do Wicky know that y'took 'em." Wally, never could be sure when Bulfie was joking or being serious.

The ferret nodded. "'Course 'e do. Sure, that old stoat told me t'take this lot off his paws. So now we have workers for a few days, best part is, we don't even have to pay them. "

At this the pair of young weasels grumbled.

Bulfie turned abruptly. "None o' that youse two. I knows yer mum, and so help me, if y'gives me any grief I'll get her permission to smack the two of ye into one."

The pair, who it seemed, were siblings grinned knowing the ferret was only joking.

Wally scratched his whiskers. They could use the extra paws, but he didn't fancy having so many young and inexperienced creatures working the site. "Well, alright. But you supervise them Bulfie. I want every single object accounted for. "

"You heard him. Now, get to work!"

Scrambling to the tasks the ferret had previously assigned to them, the students set to work.

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Ever the cautious one, Dan made sure they arrived at the airport with time to spare. Check in and security took far less time than he had calculated. This left the squirrels with over an hour to wait in the terminal. While the airport was massive, Dan was not overly fussy on exploring, nor did he fancy shopping in the highly expensive boutiques. To Beth's dismay they had to stay at the gate. Jennifer had booked their flight with_ West Shore Airlines _which exclusively flew to Salamandastron. Typically tourists and business travelers used _Mossflower Air _which tended to be the cheaper option. Not even the gate attendant was there yet. Checking her watch Beth sighed. Only seven thirty. They hadn't even had breakfast yet, and of course the small café by the gate still hadn't opened.

"Oh this isn't so bad." Dan stated, trying to look on the bright side.

"Sure." Beth mumbled, taking out her cell phone she was soon consumed by the device, as many creatures her age were.

Having lost his daughter to the digital world, Dan took out a book from the carry-on bag. He read quietly, largely tuning out the world around them. Before either of them knew it, there was the sound of moving metal. The security curtain was being pulled away from the café, which was now preparing to open up. Placing the bookmark in his novel Dan quickly found his wallet.

"I'll get us a quick snack, watch the bags, I won't be too long."

Beth gave no response, not so much looking up from her phone.

"I'm just going to put this out there Flunkworthy, that you fail at life, wot." A jovial voice rang out though the empty terminal.

"Oh shove it up your crooked hooter Toby." Another voice, presumably that of this Flunkworthy beast, responded.

Beth glanced up from her phone and found that the gate had suddenly, and without warning, flooded with hares. Everywhere the young squirrel looked, she saw hares in uniform. Some donned blue berets tipped up to the left, others in uniforms of green or desert camouflage. There was also, among the group a pawful of hares in dashing red dress tunics. These figures seemed to be important, as the other uniformed creatures treated them with the upmost respect.

"I was merely pointing out Flunkworthy ole chum, that getting lost on the way to the airport is hardly proper of a Long Patrol hare of your caliber. " Joked the hare Toby once more.

Flunkworthy grew infuriated at the teasing. Puffing up in the face he rounded on the other. "I wasn't bally lost, you blither headed buffoon. T'wasn't me fault anyway. I'll not have you jesting that is was. You rotten scoff-swiping dribble nosed dither pawed-"

"That's quite enough chaps. Young ears and all that." Whispered a female hare sitting beside the pair. Frequently other beasts took Beth for being younger than she was. The two bucks paused, and passed quick glances towards Beth.

At the moment of silence Beth peered up from the phone, she looked about expecting to see a child seated nearby. Realizing the hares had been speaking about her, she flushed up behind her already red fur.

Toby chuckled muttering loud enough for Beth to hear. "Yes mummy can't have the little 'uns picking up the bad language. Shame on you Flunkworthy."

"Will you drop it?" Flunkworthy hissed, still quite cross. Although why, Beth could only guess.

Unable to contain herself Beth started to laugh. She felt as if she was in the midst of a comedy sketch. After all, prior to her visit she had only heard this particular hare dialect in comedy programs.

"Oh sorry." She caught herself.

"No trouble at all missie. I say, are you a bit lost. Squirrel gel like you waiting out at this end of the hanger?" Toby asked, curiously taking mental note of Beth.

She shook her head, happy to explain. "No. My dad and I are going to Salamandastron for the garden party thing. Dad got invited, I'm the plus one."

The hare nodded. "Ah, I say, is it that time of season already?" he paused and appeared to be calculating the dates in his head. "Hmm, well there a thing, I suppose it is. " Ever the curious hare, he couldn't help but pick up the way Beth had pronounced his mountain home, a classic way of determining where a beast originated from. "You some sort of American squirrel then?"

Beside him Flunkworthy rolled his eyes. "Wot is this twenty blinking questions?"

Beth giggled and shook her head. "I don't mind sir. I'm Canadian actually."

"Y'don't say. I did a bit of training that-a-ways. 'bout two or three seasons back now. Jolly nice place. We were up… where was it mum?" Toby looked towards the female hare. She put aside her news paper, and passed him an exasperated look.

"Northwest Territories."

"Ah yes, that spot. The creatures were most friendly, I dear say. Freeze your blinking scutt off mind you, but the creatures bar none the nicest."

"Oh your just saying that, 'cause you got on with one of those snowshoe hare gels." Flunkworthy dug his elbow into Toby's ribs smirking.

"Will you two mind your words? Great seasons." Hissed the female.

"Don't mind mummy, she's always like that wot. I suppose introductions are in order. The name Toby Jarkins, that blighter is Gerard Flunkworthy and the pretty miss is mum."

Raising a paw the female interrupted. "Actually it is Beatrice deMayne but Toby does love his nicknames."

Not skipping a beat Toby continued." We're from the Salamandastron 47th Combat Engineers, Sappers if you will. Although that likely means fur all to you wot."

Taking the offered paws and shaking them warmly the young squirrel smiled. "I'm Beth."

Dan returned carrying a paper bag containing breakfast. As expected, once all the hares arrived the café line grew exponentially. He passed a smile to the three sitting across from his daughter and passed Beth her bottle of apple juice.

"I got you a hot breakfast scone with cheese and a fruit cup, which ought to tide you over till we get there."

The trio of hares was soon joined by another. A taller male who balanced a cardboard tray of hot beverages in one paw, and a far larger paper bag in the other.

"Just a light snack for the ole tum wot." He didn't even have a chance to set the bag down before his friends dived into it.

"Jolly spiffing of you Thurdale." Toby announced between bites of a blueberry scone.

The tall hare removed the pack he had slung over one shoulder and made himself comfortable. "Least I can do. 'sides that scoff might keep you quiet for a few blissful moments. "

At this Beth couldn't help but laugh. She had grown to like these hares quite a bit. Her father shot her a warning glance, not wanting her to be rude. However he quickly realized no harm was in it. Beth introduced her father to the hares; paws were shook between bites of breakfast. Dan quickly explained why he and his daughter had come to Mossflower, leaving out the part about traveling to smooth things over with the Badger Lord. As he had anticipated, the hares were most interested in the dig site.

"Golly, that must be very interesting. Find any weapons?" Toby asked excitedly.

Dan shrugged. "Yes and no, we've come across some bits and pieces that may have come from slings. Although I got a text in the line for breakfast that a blade has been found. "

"Any idea what type o'blade? I bet the chap put paid to a few foebeast with it before falling wot." Toby continued getting more and more excited.

"As I said, I just got the message, no word on it yet."

The female folded up her news paper, tucking it into her pack. "Well I think they should be left well enough alone."

"Beatrice, come now." Coaxed Thurdale, not entirely comfortable with her statement.

"No I mean it. Those hares were put to rest. It is hardly fair that we dig the poor whallah's up now. I would have a thing or three to say if somebeast went an' dug up my grandpa in France. "

Dan said nothing further on the subject. It was the very thing he had expected to encounter at Salamandastron. The hares were very proud of this history, and they had every right to be, as far as he was concerned. As a historian and an archaeologist, he had to be diplomatic, and respectful. Particularly when working with remains of other creatures. There was a wealthy of knowledge to be gained from the site, but it could be easy to forget sometimes that these were somebeast's ancestors. Descendants of these hares still lived, and served at Salamandastron. While he did want an academic group heading up the project, he could understand the Mountains desire to be kept informed.

His phone buzzed, rising he excused himself to go and take the call. After a few moments Beth too stepped away to use the washroom. Once the two squirrels had gone Thurdale nudged the female.

"Wot was that about eh?"

"I was simply stating my opinion Thurdale. Don't tell me you're entirely comfortable with our ancient warriors ending up on display."

"Perhaps not ole gel." He admitted. "But I wouldn't have stated it in such a way."


	11. Chapter 11

There was much excitement at the dig site. While bones and other small remains provided the most historic information, blades were shiny. The four students hovered around the small dagger, each scrambling to get a closer look at it.

"Can we touch it?" Piped up the stoat.

"Keep yer paws off it!" Shouted Bulfie, he wasn't about to have the find pocketed. Not after their first misfortune with grave robbers. "Finish documenting it then Wally is locking it up."

"Aww… but Sir." One of the weasels begged.

Wally was feeling somewhat sympathetic towards the eager young minds. Also if he let them hold the artifact, they may be more inclined to go back to work, rather than pester him about it. "Alright, but be gentle each o'ye." He carefully supervised the holding of the blade.

The young stoat took it first. Gingerly he examined the small weapon. It was simple design, although skillfully made at a badger's forage. He slowly wrapped his paw about the narrow hilt. Grinning he held up the ancient blade. "Ha look at this mates, I looks like a regular warrior now eh?"

Bulfie clicked his teeth watching as the other students nodded agreeing with the statement. Their eyes all wide and grins plastered across their faces.

"Oh yes, a real warrior. Pity such a blade would have been headed right for yer throat back in the day."

The young stoat looked a little crestfallen, and Wally heaved a sigh. He expected his friend to carry on with another one of his tangents, about how history had poorly painted his species. It never came. But there was some light chuckling emerging from the weasel brothers.

"May I hold it?" The mouse asked having decided the stoat had more than enough time with the weapon. She had waited patiently after all.

The blade passed into her paws. Holding it delicately she observed it with a far more academic interest. Unlike her fellow students she wasn't interested in fantasies about warriors and long past battles. History was only her minor; her real interest was Mossflower literature. Still, a slow smile crept across her features as she held it.

"My goodness, it is very light." Her voice held surprise, not at all what she had expected.

"Indeed missie. This is a runner's blade, meant to be carried on long runs. The owner might 'ave been given it when 'e was ten seasons old. We won't find many blades. Y'see, blades and the like use up a lot of resources to make; when they are made they'll last for generations. More often than not, the blade will pass on to a family member. But sometimes, if the creature was real special, or if the circumstances forced it, they will be buried with the blades. "Wally explained.

The weasels took their time with it. The elder of the pair asking. "So is this all we'll find?"

Wally shrugged his shoulders. "Mayhaps."

"What about Rapscallion weapons?" The younger piped up. "Doc..er I mean Bulfie said there may be Rapscallions buried along here too."

The ferret nodded. "Aye, might be some buried in a pit here abouts. An' we may find some cutlasses or spears tossed in amongst them. Woodlanders tended not to keep vermin blades."

The students looked most surprised that one of the professors would use the word vermin. Bulfie took all this in stride. Taking a long swig from his water bottle he waved a paw. Alright, back to work. If I 'ad a whip I'd be cracking it across yer lazy backs.

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The flight to Salamandastron's airport was largely uneventful. Once they touched down, Beth could feel that they had arrived at the legendary home of the badgers and hares. It wasn't just due to the fact ninety percent of the creatures in the airport were hares, or that most of those were in some sort of uniform. There were signs everywhere: the artwork in the airport depicted varying achievements of the Long Patrol, assorted plaques and parts of WWII planes could be found around each corner, and even the small airport pub carried the name _Eulalia!. _Wading though the sea of bob tails and long ears, the two squirrels made their way outside. A sleek looking black car waited for them. Jennifer was there, already in her formal wear. The weasel wore a simple, yet very charming cream coloured dress and a matching hat cocked over one ear to the right side. While she looked lovely, the outfit didn't quite seem to fit the weasel's business like personality. With Jennifer was another hare, in full dress regalia. The hare was quick to relieve Dan of his suitcase, while the weasel made introductions.

"I hope the flight went well. This is one of Lord Urthbriar's aids, Captain Jonathan Tussock. Captain, may I present Dr. Dan Firdance, and his daughter Beth Firdance."

The hare nodded politely and loaded the luggage into the car. It became apparent that Captain Tussock was also to be acting as their driver to the mountain stronghold. There wasn't a long drive from the airport to the mountain. Beth peered out the window as they passed along the motor way. On the short dive they passed several buildings that seemed to serve some sort of military purpose. It seemed that everywhere she looked a large aircraft, tank or cannon stood as monument. The Captain only spoke on occasion, usually to answer a question, or point out notable points of interest. Waving a casual paw towards the window, he glanced at Beth from the rearview mirror.

"There she is, home sweet home."

Up ahead, standing larger than life was Salamandastron. The ocean provided the pristine backdrop for the majestic fortress. The car ambled up the road, past the museum and tourist information centre. The young squirrel pressed her nose against the window watching the many creatures that had come to see the site. Butterflies raced in her stomach as they drove closer and closer and the mountain grew larger. The hare driver veered the car away from the main road, turning off to an underground car park. A rather official looking hare stood on guard, and with a gloved paw signaled that the car had to stop.

Captain Tussock rolled down the window giving the hare a nod. Seeing who the driver was, the guard hare offered up a quick salute. "Just bringing some of our guests for the garden party. Be so kind as to let the chaps know that Dr. Firdance and his daughter have arrived."

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It wasn't even midday, and some of the students were beginning to lag. Crouched over the site, they worked with small hand shovels and brushes. One of the weasels slapped at his neck.

"Ugh, bloody bugs." He grumbled loudly.

"Welcome t'the country matey." Wally laughed.

The weasel grumbled all the more. "I think me ears are burning, an' me back aches."

Bulfie looked towards the sky as the student continued to grumble about working in the outdoors. "Oh woe, there is dirt getting under my claws, whatever shall I do?" he cried in a mocking forlorn fashion.

The student passed a cold glance towards the ferret. Mumbling inaudibly he continued brushing away at the remains of the first otter body uncovered at the site. His brother had been given the photographing duty. Sneaking up, he clicked away with the camera.

"Oh yeah. Work it, fab baby!" He snickered.

"Will ye two knock it off?" Bulfie gave them a warning glance. Before he could lecture the pair, his mobile rang. With a look of aggravation, he snatched it from the clip on his belt. "Hello… yea, speaking…What, WHAT." The ferrets face quickly shifted to that of fear. When the short call was over, he dropped his tools and hurried towards his car.

Wally watched his friend with growing concern. Leaving behind what he was working on he followed after Bulfie. "Wot's this about mate?"

The ferret was rapidly punching in another number into his phone. "The youngster swallowed an eraser, I'm off t'the hospital. "

As a parent himself, Wally knew better than to question further. He stepped aside, watching as the ferret peeled out of the makeshift driveway. He would do the same should anything happen to any of his children. He would just have to continue on the site without him.

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Beth felt she was in a dream world. Uniformed hares escorted both her and her father to a room that had been prepared for them. A wide grin seemed to permanently fix upon her face. "We're actually staying here?" She squeaked.

One of the uniformed hares smiled seeing the young creature's excitement. "O'course missie, wouldn't be jolly hospitable of us if we didn't arrange a room, wot."

Bounding through the hallway with a new spring in her step they came upon the small chamber. It was cut right out of the rock, as Beth presumed all the rooms were. Two double beds could be found within, heavy red bedspreads on each. The young squirrel scurried around the room, exploring every nook and cranny.

"There's a fireplace!" She exclaimed, and then moments later she discovered the circular window cut into the rock. "Daddy, look at this view!"

Dan thanked the hares for their help finding the place, and bringing up the luggage. Each smiled warmly, as with most hares; they took delight in the antics of young creatures.

"Just sing out sah if you'll be needing anything wot." One spoke up. His fellow escort watched the wonder and excitement of Beth and grinned.

"Seems the young miss 'as settled in nicely. We'll leave you to it."

They both had other duties; the mountain was a buzz of activity with the garden party upon them in a few short hours. There was still much to prepare, like a well oiled machine the hares of the Long Patrol worked their magic to ensure every detail was in order.

Dan was starting to feel dizzy watching Beth circle the room. He set the suitcase on one of the beds, unzipping it and retrieved his toiletry bag, shoes, and the few other bits and bobs he needed to get ready. He motioned towards the small washroom attached to the chamber. "Go get ready, we'll be expected to go down to the party soon enough."

Snatching up her dress Beth scurried into the small washroom. Each squirrel got ready as quickly as they could. Dan took little time, being a male-beast; he wasn't as fussy with how his tail looked. Pleased that he was neat and tidy, he checked his tie in the mirror. It was a good thing he could dress so quickly, it seemed only moments after sending his daughter to get changed there came a knock at the door. Quirking a brow, he pulled the heavy door back.

"Oh, Jennifer. Didn't expect to see you so soon."

The weasel invited herself in pleased to see Dan was all ready to go. In her paws she carried a black folder which she casually opened and sorted though the contents. "I've been in touch with Lord Urthbriar's Attaché all week; finally I was able to secure a meeting. You will only have half an hour or so this afternoon, but his Lordship is very interested in your work, so we shall see how this goes." Removing some papers she passed them to Dan. "Here is your invitation, and the seating plan. You're seated at the same table as retired Brigadier Scutram and his wife. He previously served as cultural minster, so I thought that would give you lots to talk about. He's also a family friend." She added the last part, as if it were an afterthought.

The washroom door opened. Seeing the weasel, Beth shyly shuffled into the room. She wore her stunning light green dress her and May selected. It was very conservative cut, as would be expected for such an event. The dress was just past cocktail length, with sleeves to the elbow and a light swooped neck. In her paws was her small hat, also matching the fabric of the dress, with a lighter green mesh material forming an intricate bow. She held it, looking a little distraught.

"Well you look lovely." Dan remarked.

Heaving a sigh, she shrugged. "I can't get the hat on right."

Jennifer stepped in, relieving Beth of the hat. Opening up the fur clips with her teeth, she neatly pinned it at the perfect angle for the girls face. Tipping her chin upwards with a claw the weasel motioned towards the mirror. "There, much better don't you think."

The young squirrel nodded. "Thank you." She spoke gently looking at her reflection a moment longer.

Closing up her folder, a thought came to the weasel. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but the Long Patrol hosts a short memorial prior to the annual garden party. Nothing too complex, but they invite local youth to lay candles with elderly veterans. I'm sure, I could arrange for you to participate Beth."

The young squirrel nodded, and then glanced towards her father waiting for his smile of approval. "I'd really like that."

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Bulfie's small son Rinn sat on the edge of an examination table. The small ferret wore a light blue hospital gown that draped past his foot paws. His father paced nervously around the small room.

A female mouse in a white lab coat entered with an x-ray image. Pinning it in place over a light box she explained the findings to Bulfie. "As you can see there is an obstruction." Using her pen she highlighted a small white mass on the black and white image. "Typically we might wait to see if it will pass, but with a ferret that age it is going to have to be removed. "

Licking his dry lips he listened closely."An' what is the next move marm."

"We will be getting your son into surgery by three o'clock. This is a very simple procedure, however with any surgery there are some risks. We would like to keep him overnight, just to be sure that everything is as it should be. Some beast will be by soon to move your son up to the surgery floor, and then the pediatric anesthesiologist will see to him."

Bulfie nodded, trying not to look too worried, for the sake of little Rinn. "O'course."

The mouse excused herself from the room to see to other patients, and allow father and son some time to discuss. Rinn glanced at his father; most of what the doctor had said went over his young head. His almond shaped eyes peered up past the dark sable mask crossing his young face.

"Papa is I in trouble?" he asked slowly.

Hopping up to sit beside his son, Bulfie put a comforting paw around the lad's shoulders. "No, not at all. That eraser you swallowed, it needs t'get out o' yer belly. A nice doctor is going to give you something that will make ye sleepy, then when you wake up, that nasty bit will be out o'ye. Yer gonna have t'stay here t'night, but I'm gonna take the day off work an' stay wit ye."

Rinn smiled hugging his father. "I'd like that Papa."

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True to her word, Jennifer made arrangements for Beth to participate in the event. She and the other young creatures participating in the memorial were ushered into a section of the corridor. To Beth's dismay it appeared she was among the oldest participants. Most of the creatures were under ten seasons of age. It appeared all save for her were hares, although in the short time she had been there she had gotten used to it. All around her, small leverets in varying uniforms were lined up. Many wore cadet uniforms, deep green tunics modeled after the dress uniforms of the Long Patrol. Others wore tan shirts and green berets the uniforms of the running scouts. A short time after the youth were lined up, a number of elderly hares formed up. The older veterans laughed and joked with one another, as only Long Patrol hares could. A very senior looking gentlebeast, grey with age, and leaning heavily on his cane, strolled though the crowd.

"Right o chaps, form up, y'know the drill. Pick one of these young'uns. The quicker we honour our lost, the quicker we can get some scoff. Which I'm sure they would find agreeable wot wot." He swaggered slowly towards the front continuing to add comments. "Some beast keep Woodsorrel away from the pretty ones, blooming air force, always stealing the pretty gels."

This comment brought on muffled off colour comments from the veterans, followed by low chuckles. One of the scout leaders passed by, hearing the laughter she believed it to be the youth causing the ruckus.

"Hush young'uns, remember this is a very serious occasion. " She hissed passing over the column.

The young scouts stool silently, gazing up unsure of what to do. This only brought about more laughter from the veterans.

Towards the end of the line, Beth stood, not entirely sure what she should be doing. Just as the ceremony was about to begin, the young squirrel found a hare in an air force uniform standing beside her. Glancing up at the older creature she suddenly felt very tiny. While the beast beside her was well into his eighties, he still had a towering presence. His whiskers were heavily waxed, and uniform perfectly in order. Beth's eyes drifted towards the collar of the hare's uniform. His graying fur thinned out about his neck, and the faintest indication of scarring could be visible peeking from under the crisp uniform. She wondered how he had gotten such a scar, or even how large such an injury had been. The line began to move, one of the cadet officers passed her a candle in a glass holder. Holding it, she stood not really sure what to do with it. The line moved forward, young and old walking together down the aisle of assembled hares. As it got closer and closer to her turn, she grew all the more nervous. Picking up on this the veteran standing beside her cleared his throat to get her attention. His voice rasped with age as he whispered quick instructions to her. "You carry the bally candle down to the end, pass it off to me. Remain standing, eyes front. I'll place the candle down, then turn to the right. You go left and rejoin the other young'uns. The line moved forward in the long procession. Before Beth knew it, she stood in the doorway. The veteran smiled down at her, whispering again. "One, two, three, an' left foot paw first."

Leading out with her left paw, she walked keeping pace with the elder hare. Following the pair ahead, they walked to the end of the aisle. There before them was a large wreath of poppies laid against a small stone monument. The relief on the monument showed Salamandastron, and on the beach a series of lances tipped with pendent flags. Remembering what the veteran had instructed, she passed the glass candle holder to her accompanying hare. Standing stock still she watched as he slowly moved forward, bent at the waist and placed the candle alongside the others. He took a position beside Beth, saluted the monument then turned to the right. The young squirrel momentarily forgot what she was supposed to do. Standing still, Beth paused to glance to her side and realized she was all alone. One of the cadet officers coughed lightly; catching her attention he nodded his head motioning for her to join them.

Feeling quite embarrassed she quickly walked to take a seat with the other youth. Glancing around, she spied another squirrel seated in the front row. He appeared to be only a season or so older than her. She wondered why he was there; it was nice to not be the only squirrel in attendance.


	12. Chapter 12

Rinn was brought up to the pediatric surgery floor. His father remained faithfully at his son's side. Departing only when he was required to sign paperwork, and discuss the little ferret's medical history. He tried to appear calm for the sake of his child. The nurse had assured him this was a very mild procedure; however it did little to settle a father's mind.

Shortly after arriving to the surgical floor, a nurse shaved off some of the fur on the top of Rinn's left paw. There she applied a liberal amount of numbing cream, covering it with a clear bandage so fidgety paws wouldn't rub it away. Once the cream had set for a little under thirty minutes, a cheerful faced dormouse nurse arrived. She brought with her an IV pole and the necessary supplies to run an intravenous line. Rinn held surprisingly still while the nurse secured his paw to a board with tape. She lightly wiped away the cream then pinched the skin.

"See you're not going to feel a thing." She spoke encouragingly.

Regardless of whether or not any pain was to be felt, the moment the needle was spotted Rinn threw a fit. Screeching as loud as his lungs would allow for, a passerby may wonder if a child was being murdered within the room. Bulfie pinned his son down with one paw keeping the little ferret in place. The other ensuring the little head was turned to face him, and not the nurse.

"There's a good lad." He coaxed, wiping away the tears from his son's face.

"I… don't… wanna… Papa.. I don't wanna go!"Rinn sobbed his words escaping between deep breaths.

Bulfie watched the dormouse work, the worst was over, and she had the needle in. Now she was just adjusting the saline drip. "Worst is over now." As the little ferret no longer struggled he released him.

The nurse stepped back, gently placing the IV paw along Rinn's side. "All done little fella. Now, we're going to go into the operating room."

Seeing the look of anxiety on his son's face, Bulfie tried to explain in a manner his son could understand. "Remember Rinny, Remember 'ow I said ye' were going t'go with the nice doctor and take a little nap while he takes out that eraser from yer belly."

Rinn nodded slowly.

Ruffling the fur between his son's ears Bulfie smiled. "That's me boy. Y'gotta go now. When ye get back Nan an' Granddad will be here with yer sister. " As he explained this Rinn's stretcher was rolled towards the operating room.

Watching the florescent lights go by, Rinn thought about what his father said. "Can you come in too Papa?"

Bulfie shook his head. "Naw, I gotta wait out here. But don't worry, I hear the doctors and nurses are real nice."

The little creature's lower lip quivered and he threatened to cry again. Unable the bare his son's distress Bulfie turned to bribery. "I 'ear if little ferrets are good, they might get a sweet afterwards."

It worked like a charm. The almond eyes lit up at the prospect of goodies that may lie in store. It was just enough of a distraction that Rinn didn't even notice as he was taken into the operating theatre, and his father was left behind to wait. As his father had promised, everybeast he saw was very kind. The room its self was a little frightening, what with the bright lights and machines that made strange noises. There were five beasts in the room with him. As they all worked with children, they took the time to be cheerful. From where he lay Rinn had a hard time making out what manner of creature they each were. Each wore masks about their faces and funny looking hats, not to mention their shapeless scrubs. The anesthesiologist was a plump fieldmouse. He lowered his bask so that he could speak to the child.

"Hello Rinn." He spoke as if he had known the little ferret his whole life.

Amazed that this creature knew his name, Rinn turned his head towards the mouse.

Having the ferret's attention the fieldmouse brought forwards a mask. "This is what's going to help you go to sleep. I'm just going to fit this about your head." He spoke slowly as he moved the mask into position, ensuring that it was properly fitted.

Rinn couldn't figure out how a mask could help him go to sleep. "Smells funny." he announced, laughing at the way his voice was muffled by the mask.

"Yes, it does. Doesn't it." The mouse nodded in agreement. "Rinn, I hear your about to start school. Do you know your numbers?"

"I do sir, well some of 'em."

"Splendid. Can you count all the way to ten for me?"

Feeling light headed Rinn began counting out loud for the fieldmouse. "One… Two… Three… Four…Five…" he didn't get any further as the anesthetic had taken effect.

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The garden party was unlike anything Beth could possibly have imagined. The event spanned far beyond the cliff face. Indeed the entirety of Salamandastron was involved in some manner or other. Ornate flower arrangements appeared around every corner, banners and flags were raised honouring every division of the fabled regiment. It couldn't be a Long Patrol event, without large quantities of food. A light buffet had been laid out in the gardens. All manner of: cheeses, fruits, vegetables, breads, pasties, and light sandwiches made up the fare. Of course, this was only the start. In addition for the light buffet a formal meal was planned followed by another spread of after dinner drinks and desserts.

Jennifer whispered a hushed conference with Dan. Beth was left to mill about on her own. After much nodding and hushed words her father approached her. He appeared to be in quite a hurry.

"My meeting has been moved up. I'll leave you to mingle for a little while. "

The teenage squirrel looked most nervous, what was she to do with so many unknown beasts about?

"It is only for a little while Beth, this is important." Dan had no further time to offer up words of encouragement. Weaving though the sea of hares, he and Jennifer vanished into the hallways of the fortress.

One of the smaller conference rooms had been prepared for the quick meeting. Even though most of the catering focused on the garden party, a picture of spring water and freshly washed glasses had been found. Lord Urthbriar sat at one end of the table, a file of documents before him. The badger had opted for a kilt dress rather than full military uniform. While he was not a creature of the northern highlands, he still donned the official Salamandastron tartan. This particular pattern of deep red, forest green and sandy brown had been instated as the official tartan for Long Patrol Highland regiment, back in the pre-Napoleon era. A time when Salamandastron still had to protect Mossflower from vermin attacks.

Urthbriar had ruled the Mountain for forty-five seasons, a relatively short time when considering the long lives of badgers. He had brought about many changes to the stronghold, the word was changing and Salamandastron could not afford to be left behind. To his side Colonel Swiftback sat in his full dress uniform. Rows of medals and ribbons crossed his chest. While Swiftback was among the younger high ranking officials he had gained the respect of his elders and was known for his wisdom and devout pride in his home.

The Colonel instantly rose from his seat the moment Jennifer and Dan entered the room. Waiting for the female weasel to sit first, he settled back into his place. Urthbriar closed the folder before him. "Ah, Ms Balid, pleasure as always to see you here."

The weasel smiled dipping her head in a respectful manner. "May I present Dr. Dan Firdance, he is one of the researchers currently working on the ridge site."

Colonel Swiftback looked disappointed. "I was under the impression Lockben would be making the trek."

Dan felt a little nervous, pouring up a glass of ice water, he took a sip to calm his nerves. "Dr. Lockben was unable to attend. Today is his wedding anniversary, I believe he and Mrs. Lockben are spending a few days in the country." Sipping more water the squirrel continued, gradually gaining more confidence. "I do hope I will be able to resolve any concerns Salamandastron may have about our work. It is quite a privilege to be here, and I'm sure we can work together to ensure this site provides us with valuable information in the most respectful way possible."

The badger seemed pleased by Dan's statement. "Well said my friend. I sincerely do hope that we can both benefit from this exciting find. As Ms Balid perhaps has already informed you, this ridge site, it provides us at Salamandastron with quite the moral dilemma."

"Yes, I have been briefly informed. But by all means, I am interested to hear what your concerns are." Dan opened up his folder taking out a pen preparing to write any notes he may need for later.

"As you are no doubt aware, the Long Patrol has had a century's old tradition of burying soldiers on or near the site of the battle. The chief concern among my hares, is that they do not wish for the remains of their ancestors to be put on display. There has also been worry that, the site isn't being treated as what it is, a burial ground. Lastly, I myself have worries about the safety and security of the site. I was made aware that some items may have been stolen. Do you have any further word on this?"

Dan was worried the issue of the grave robbing would come up. "Well," he began trying to formulate a clear response. " The authorities were immediately notified, they continue to investigate. We're not sure if any artifacts or remains were removed at all. St. Ninian's university is doing everything to ensure the site is protected."

The answer didn't appear to please the Colonel, however Urthbriar seemed to accept it.

"I appreciate that the hares of Salamandastron have worries about the dig. I want to assure you that the team is the finest Mossflower has to offer. We have no intention of moving any bodies to a museum or university setting. While some have been removed from the ground, the intention is to rebury if possible. The issue, your Lordship, doesn't only lie with us. The land has been purchased for building of Olympic centers. To date the contractors haven't been in touch with the university, beyond trying to find out when their work can continue. I understand Dr. Lockben has been petitioning the government to declare the land a historic site."

"Has there been any luck with this application?" Urthbriar asked.

Dan shook his head. "Sadly there has been little progress. There have been difficulties, what with the Olympics coming to Mossflower. The primary concern seems to be preparing for those events, rather than preserving historic spaces. Perhaps if your Lordship would make the case. I know the university would stand behind you. We are interested in the information this burial ground can provide us, but ultimately these creatures deserve to be returned to their resting place. "

Urthbriar nodded to Swiftback. "See to it that the Mossflower government is made aware of our stance." He instructed. "Dr. Firdance, it has come to our attention that the Abbot of Redwall will be making an appearance at the site. I would very much like to pay respects myself."

"But of course Lord Urthbriar." Dan spoke confidently, but he wasn't sure how Bulfie would take this news.

"I will have my hares provide you with all the details before you depart here. But for now, we have a garden party to see to." Smiling he stood and warmly enveloped Dan's paw in a warm paw-shake. "I hope you will enjoy the hospitality Salamandastron has to offer." With the Colonel at his side, the badger made his leave.

"Well that went well." Jennifer breathed a sigh of relief.

"You think?"

"Oh yes, when I last spoke to him he was absolutely furious. I think he likes you." She winked then they made their way to rejoin the festivities.


	13. Chapter 13

Beth tried not to be hopelessly awkward. Milling about, she narrowly avoided being walked on by hares making their way back and forth from the buffet tables. She struggled to get as far away from the food as she could, as that seemed to be the most likely place for injury. Beth felt like a broken record, as she meekly uttered "beg pardon, "and "excuse me," over and over. At last she managed squeeze away so that she had room to breathe. Her first order of business was to see if she could spy her father. Turning about, she suddenly bumped into the young male squirrel. She immediately took a step back in surprise. Up close he was indeed quite close to her age. He wore a morning suit of dark grey; somehow Beth couldn't picture him in anything else. There was something very familiar about the squirrel, but she couldn't sort out what it was. Hovering over him was a burly looking otter. Peering down at Beth he scowled taking a protective pace towards the squirrel.

"Sorry about that." Beth spoke quickly, a little put off by the otter's presence.

"No harm done." The squirrel smiled, perhaps as pleased as she was to run into another squirrel around the same age.

"Enjoying the party?" It seemed only fitting to Beth to add in some small talk.

"Bit dull for me, but I manage. It isn't the worst event I've attended. "He chuckled lightly, then turned to the otter. "Mr. Streambattle, may I have a moment?"

Begrudgingly the otter agreed and left the two squirrels to converse.

"Don't mind him. It is his job to be bothersome." Motioning with his paw, he invited her to share a seat on one of the benches.

Beth followed, unable to wipe the silly grin off her face. He had the finest manners of any teenager she had ever met. Sitting beside him she watched the group of hares, some laughing or even singing together. "I'm Beth by the way." She said after a moment.

The male never gave his name, just nodded in response to her's. "Lovely to make your acquaintance miss. Have you traveled far to be here?"

Laughing, Beth recalled the hares in the airport. "Before you ask, I'm not American. I'm here with my dad. He's one of the guys working on an archaeological dig in Mossflower, the one where they found Long Patrol soldiers. We're from Toronto… that's in Canada." She added the last part hastily.

"Ah, well, it is nice to have another squirrel to spend time with." He winked at her; it was enough to make Beth melt. Before further conversation could take place, he spied the otter motioning that he had to come with him. Sighing he took Beth's paw and kissed it. For Beth she felt like she was in a movie. "I'll look for you later." He whispered, and then departed to join the stern looking otter.

Beth was in heaven, waving a paw she watched the handsome youth leaving. Her daydreams were cut short by a low chuckling sound.

"Making friends are we young'un."

Beside her stood the elderly hare that had been making jokes during the line up for the candle ceremony. He leaned upon his cane, taking slow steps forward, and then sat himself next to her. "I'm sure your father would be jolly impressed with your choice of companion. But I ought to warn you missie, that laddie buck is quite the young rapscallion. "

"Sorry sir, but I'm not sure follow."

Holding up his cane, the elderly hare pointed towards the departing squirrel. "Don't tell me you don't know about Prince Truffken of Southsward? He's only bally third in line for the crown." The hare spoke as if this was common knowledge.

Beth had indeed heard the name before. Suddenly she realized why the squirrel seemed familiar; she had seen him mentioned on the news and in magazines several times. Blinking in surprise, she instantly regretted so casually speaking with the prince. "He's… He's a prince?"

"Yes indeed m'gel. An' if you'll excuse this old campaigner for saying, I rather think he fancied you." The old creature patted her shoulder, and then slowly got to his foot paws. "Now then miss, don't sit there with yer mouth agape like some big fish whallah. We best be getting to our seats, don't want to be late for scoff wot."

Still dazed with disbelief Beth rose from the bench following the old hare. "I'm not sure where I'm supposed to sit. " She caught sight of a seating chart, and was about to go look at it, when the elderly hare stopped her.

"Your Miss Firdance, aren't you M'gel? I don't see too many hares about with such a name."

Beth nodded, and continued to walk with the hare.

"Then you're seated at my table. Hurry along now, y'father and Jenny ought t'be by in a few ticks wot."

They arrived at the round table, where three hares were already seated. Beth was surprised to see the hare she had escorted earlier. There he was sitting beside two harewives who were conversing between themselves. Each of the ladies wore very feminine uniforms. One in the blue of the female air force auxiliary, complete with neat pencil skirt and cap. The other wore the dress uniform for Long Patrol nurses serving in the field ambulance service.

The other male rose from his seat. "You're looking rather well Brigadier Scutram."

The elderly hare sat down with great effort, huffing behind his heavily waxed whiskers. "Nonsense Tussock, this season fell upon me like a basket of bally bricks. How in the name of vinegar did I end up sharing a table with you? The seasons have be far too kind to you ol' chap. I say, y'making the rest of us blighters look bad."

Smiling the retired air force hare glanced towards the still chatting females. "I didn't have say in the matter chum. It was entirely the arrangement of the ladies."

At this the Brigadier's wife gave a mock frown. "What other arrangements am I expected t'make. Since you moved my dear cousin from the region, I only ever get to see her at such occasions, or the occasional wedding. Speaking of which, when are you going t'get after that grandson o'yours. Bridget tells me he's a Captain now, an' living with that delightful gel from Noonvale. I should think they ought to be at least thinking of marriage."

"Steady on Margret." Brigadier Scutram placed a gentle paw over that of his wife's. "Leave the young'uns to do as they wish m'dear."

Beth found the place-card with her name on it. Seating herself in her place across from the four hares, she shyly looked around the room. Brigadier Scutram was quick to make introductions.

"This delightful young squirrel gel is Miss Beth Firdance. Missie, might I present retired Group Captain Tussock, and his charming wife retired Company Assistant Bridget Tussock. Also, My own delightful wife, Mrs. Scutram."

Beth smiled as each was indicated to her. Group Captain Tussock smiled warmly in return. "Oh, but I've already made the acquaintance of Miss Firdance. " The other hares looked curiously toward him. "This fine young lady escorted me during the candle presentation. Top marks for that young missie."

"Well now, here I thought we had to keep Woodsorrel from stealing away the pretty maids. Seems I was mistaken, 'tis you ole chap we need to watch out for."

Beth was most embarrassed by the manner the hares joked. She was greatly relieved when her father and Jennifer returned. Dan took his seat between the Group Captain and his daughter, while Jennifer was wedged between Beth and the Brigadier. Beth was surprised at how the weasel and elderly hare seemed to know each other quite well. Both the Brigadier and his wife appeared to dote on Jennifer as if she were their own granddaughter.

"Jenny, lovely t'see you again." Mrs. Scutram spoke warmly. "Art was telling me that you've already started writing your new book. I rather hope those letters I sent you will be of use."

The weasel nodded. "Yes and thank you again Mrs. Scutram."

The Brigadier twirled his waxed whiskers. "Aren't you going to tell every-beast what this new book of yours is about wot?"

Jennifer placed her napkin over her lap looking a little embarrassed. "I wouldn't want to bore anybeast."

"Absolute tosh M'lovely. Come on then, give us something to keep us occupied while waiting on the scoff."

Fidgeting with her cloth napkin the weasel began. "Well, I thought I would write a novel about my grandfather's life. He passed away last autumn; I thought the best way to honour his memory was to write a book."

It seemed the Brigadier wasn't about to let her end it there. "Jenny, y'can't very well tell these chaps an'ladies that you're writing a book and not tell them the bally details. Go on tell them the story. Tis a good yarn as I recall."

Mrs. Scutram was heard to whisper to her cousin. "O'course he would say that, he's jolly well in it."

Sighing Jennifer began. "It all really begins with the death of my great uncle. My family has lived fairly close to Salamandastron, since long before weasel types and woodlanders fought on the same side. When the Second World War broke out, my great uncle enlisted as soon as he was able. As with many troops in the region his officers were all hares. He saved the life of his Captain by getting him out of the way of an explosion. My great uncle survived the blast long enough to make it to a hospital. The Captain, who happened to come from a very influential Salamandastron family, visited him. He felt he owed the beast a great debt, so he asked if there was anything he could do for him. My great uncle knew he wasn't going survive his injuries, and only asked one thing. He asked this officer, if he could find a job for his brother, my grandfather. You see, my grandfather was born legally bind. He had very low vision and could only make out lights and shadows and some shapes. At the time it made getting a job very difficult, to make matters worse his father had died young of a mill injury. My grandfather was soon to become the only creature that could support my great-grandmother. My great uncle died from his injuries, but true to his word the Captain found my grandfather a job. He ended up doing maintenance and odd jobs around one of the newly constructed army bases. While working at the base, my grandfather became friends with the then Captain Scutram. Of course Brigadier, then Captain Scutram was required to go with his hares to fight. Having already lost a brother, and many other friends my grandfather was most upset to see him go. Then completely unexpectedly, a letter arrives for him. My grandfather due to his vision and the schooling he received, never learned to read. So there he sat one day at midday meal, with this letter in paw looking absolutely crestfallen. One of the nurses spots him, and decides to talk to him. He tells her everything, and the nurse suggests that she read him the letter, and that she could write a response. This goes on for two or three months, then my grandfather thinks it is time to let his friend know who is writing these letters. Before you know it, she's getting her own personal letters. After the war, of course they get married. My grandfather gets a promotion, and they stay close friends. Later their children stay in close contact, and even the grandchildren stay in touch. That is really how I became involved in studying Salamandastron's history. "

"Well, that is quite a story." Group Captain Tussock remarked.

"I am hoping to record as many stories as I can. Lord Urthbriar has been quite good about allowing me to gain access to the archives and interview retired officers. I should one day like to write about your war experiences."

At this news the hare's expression changed. Beth couldn't help but notice he almost seemed a little pale. He took his time before giving any response. "I'm not sure that is something beasts ought t'be reading about marm."

Jennifer wisely did not press the matter. As if on cue, the serving hares arrived with the salad course. The large bowl placed in front of each creature held a large summer salad, complete with currants and fresh berries and a large helping of raspberry dressing. Beth was surprised any of the hares had any room left after all the food they put away earlier. Amid bites of food Dan opted to introduce some pleasant conversation.

"Ms Balid tells me you were cultural minister Brigadier Scutram."

"Yes, most interesting work. Not as interesting as the work you do of course, but it was quite rewarding to preserve our Mountains culture."

"I don't suppose you have the contact information for the hare currently responsible for Salamandastron's records?"

"Whatever for old scout?"

"Well, we have found some markings on some of the recovered hares, markings that may help us identify them. I was hoping that if I could look through the records, it might be possible to find out who these creatures were."

The Brigadier thought on this a moment while crewing great mouthfuls of salad. "Capital idea, tell you what I can do. I'll put the request in personally. Jenny here can make the arrangements for you scholarly types to look through whatever you need. "

Both Dan and Jennifer exchanged smiles. "Thank you sir, thank you so much." The squirrel was overjoyed.

Before Beth even had a chance to finish her salad another course was brought forward. This one was a mushroom and yellow cheese bake with grilled leeks on the side and a hearty helping of turnip. The serving hare noticed she hadn't even finished her salad.

"Did you want me to leave this for you miss?" he asked politely.

Beth shook her head. "No, thank you." She wondered, judging by the look the server had given her if this was the wrong answer.

"Not much of an appetite this one." Mrs. Tussock remarked loud enough for Beth to hear.

"Easy on the gel Bridget, I'm sure she's just saving room for dessert." The retired Group Captain winked at her. "Isn't that right wot?"

Taking a few bites of the leeks she smiled. "Yes sir."

"Now then miss, what is it you do, when you're not enchanting princes that is?" The Brigadier asked.

Dan looked up from his meal. Then cast a curious look towards Beth.

"I'll explain later." She mumbled to her father. Setting down her fork she responded as politely as she could. "I'm still in high school sir. Although this summer I had the chance to come with my dad and help out at the dig site. I photograph mostly, but it has been interesting work so far."

"And are you enjoying it dear?" Mrs. Scutram added.

"Yes Ma'am I am." Beth answered quickly.

Another course came, this one a bowl of hearty stew made of many root vegetables such as potatoes, carrots, turnips. There was also barley and herbs Beth couldn't even name. It tasted as good as it smelled. Although by now Beth was starting to feel most full. After the stew a cabbage and spinach pasty was brought out, dripping with gravy. Following this another salad arrived, this one Beth politely refused as she knew she couldn't possibly finish it. It did look lovely topped with russet apples and chestnuts. There was still desert to contend with, what a dessert it was. Each guest was given a monumental portion of trifle, filled with fresh fruits and dripping with fluffy meadow cream. The young squirrel had to fight to make room for the three bites she gave it.

"I think I might roll out of here." Beth fanned herself with a paw.

"Only a light lunch really." Group Captain Tussock smiled. "Just a few vittles t'keep fur and bone together."

The young squirrel couldn't be sure if he was joking or not. For an older creature he had packed away the masses of food. Even asking for seconds on occasion. She passed a glance towards Jennifer, who had also not been able to keep up with the sheer amount of food. Realizing she wasn't alone Beth felt a little better.


	14. Chapter 14

Bulfie paced around the waiting area. Checking the wall clock he could feel his heart beat all the more. His son was supposed to have finished his surgery twenty minutes ago, yet no word had come. Bulfie wasn't sure if there was a delay, or something had gone wrong. His mind reeled with a thousand possibilities. Chewing on is lip he continued pacing until a familiar set of paws wrapped around his middle.

"Papa, here you are!"

He looked down to see his eight season old daughter Raddi clinging to him. She was a lighter furred ferret, much like her mother. Raddi was also small for her age, so she was no trouble for Bulfie to scoop up into his paws.

"Is Rinn in trouble?" she asked, behind her innocent eyes, Bulfie could sense that a part of his daughter hoped her little, and sometimes annoying brother was in trouble.

"No Raddi, yer brother ain't in any trouble. 'e just needs t'watch what is put in that gob o' his from now on." He sat down and placed his daughter on the chair beside him. Glancing up he nodded to his parents.

"Nanny and Granddad took me for ice-cream." She announced happily.

"They did, did they?" He gave a look towards his father, the likely culprit for making that decision. "Well I hope they didn't spoil yer dinner."

His parents sat beside him, each looking as worried as he was, while trying to keep things cheerful for the sake of Raddi.

"Has the little fella come out yet?"

"No Da, he's still in there. 'Suppose to be done. But no word yet. " Bulfie sighed.

His mother took his paw squeezing it gently. "I'm sure everything will be just fine. Ye'll see soon enough Bully. " She spoke gently using the pet name for her only son.

As if on cue a doctor emerged from behind the door that barricaded the waiting area from the recovery room. "Mr. Daclaw?" He asked as he approached the assembled ferrets.

Bulfie strode forward and nodded, bracing for the worst possible news.

"Your son is out of surgery, he did quite well. He's up now in the recovery room, he's a bit groggy. We had to give him a larger dose of pain medicine, as he was in a great deal of discomfort. He's going to be quite sleepy for the rest of the day, but that is just as well. Would you like to go see him?"

Needing no second bidding, the ferret anxiously followed the doctor.

Rinn looked so tiny lying on the stretcher, covered in warm blankets. On one side the IV lines dangled, the other a heart rate monitor had been fixed to his paw. A nurse was seated beside the little creature letting him take a few sips of water from a straw. Wiping his chin the kindly looking hedgehog took the cup away. "There you go little one, don't want to give you too much. Look your daddy is here to see you."

Rinn tried to raise his head, but on account of the medication pumping though his system, found he couldn't do it. "Papa?" He spoke weakly.

Bulfie rushed to his son's side. Taking his right paw he stroked the soft dark fur. "I'm here Rinny, I'm here."

"Me belly hurts." Rinn uttered softly. His voice distant as if he were asleep.

"Sure it do. We're going to go up to your room in a little bit. Raddi is here now, so is Nan and Granddad."

This news seemed to cheer up the little ferret. He settled back, and unable to keep his eyes open any longer closed them.

888888

The meal had concluded at the garden party. Dan and Beth excused themselves to go back to their room and freshen up. Following the winding hallways the pair of squirrels found their way back, but not before asking, no fewer than three hares for directions.

Once inside, Beth flopped back on her bed. Her father frowned, watching his daughter allow wrinkles to form on her very expensive dress. Beth didn't seem to notice and unpinned the hat from her headfur. "I've never eaten so much in my life!" she exclaimed.

"Hares do know how to eat." Dan chuckled. "The day isn't over yet, there is still a dance if you're up for going."

Beth thought about it a moment, she wasn't overly fussy with the idea. But then remembered that her handsome prince may be in attendance. "Sounds like a plan." She grinned.

Dan loosened his tie, and went to brush his teeth in the washroom. While he was in there, Beth realized she had left her paw-bag down at the table. Explaining this to her father, he shrugged.

"If you need it, go get it. I'm sure you don't need me to hold your paw."

Leaving her hat on the bed the young squirrel re-traced her steps back to where they had eaten. There were still many hares there, some even still eating. Although, Beth couldn't fathom where they had found the food. Weaving around the tables she spied the one she had been sitting at earlier. The Group Captain and his wife had already departed. There were only the last three still conversing. Beth strolled up behind them. While not intended, her paws were almost silent. They continued their conversation not realizing the squirrel could hear them.

"All we're saying m'dear is that perhaps interviewing Tussock isn't the way to do this wot. After all the chap's been through he isn't likely t'open up after all these seasons. "

"But don't you think it is a story worth being told. He did help all those other prisoners escape. "

"Yes, yes, but what Berty is trying to say is, the dear Group Captain doesn't wish to relive those days for any beast. Great seasons, he hasn't even talked about it to his own wife. Everything she knows came second paw. If it wasn't for the burns covering most of his chest she might not even suspect that he was shot down, much less captured. "

Beth, hearing the last bit gasped. She had seen the slight scar peaking from under the hare's uniform, but she never imagined the story behind it. The three heads turned spying her. Beth pretended she hadn't heard a thing. "Silly me, left my paw-bag behind."

Quickly picking it up from the chair, she scurried off. While she was curious as to what had happened, she really didn't want to hear any more.

88888

Rinn was brought up to the room and made to feel as comfortable as possible. The doctor suggested not letting him eat anything too heavy, but to stick to fluids. Bulfie's father immediately left to go pick up some popsicles which would no doubt help cheer the ferret up.

Raddi sat on the window ledge beside her grandmother. She watched her brother with a bored expression on her face. "How long does we have to stay here?" She grumbled.

Her grandmother flicked the maid's ear lightly. " Hush now, yer brother is resting."

Bulfie sat beside his son, realizing that his young daughter did have a point. "Rinn 'as t'stay here tonight. I'm going to stay with him. That means you're going to be staying with Nanny and Granddad."

This perked Raddi up. She clung to her grandmother. "Can I stay up late t'night. An' can I have popcorn an' sweets an' more ice-cream." To her disappointment the older ferret shook her head. But, Bulfie new once Raddi was back at his parent's house all her whims would be met.

A knock on the door came. Standing in the doorway was Wally, carrying a large paper bag. He nodded towards the older female ferret. He fully expected the whole clan to be in attendance. "Hello. Hope y'got room for another visitor matey."

Raddi waved a pay to the friendly otter. "Hello Mr. Wally. Whatcha got there?" Of course her attention was fully on the bag.

"Oh this." The otter swayed his rudder to the side. "May thought y'might need a bit of something fer supper. So she whipped up one o' her casseroles. "

Bulfie nodded. "Obliged t'ye mate."

Wally shrugged his shoulders modestly. "I'm sure y'would do the same fer me if one o'me young uns was in such a way."

Bulfie's mother relieved the otter of the paper bag. "Come along Raddi, let's warm this up in the microwave. I thinks I spotted one earlier." Taking her granddaughter by the paw they went off in search together.

Wally nodded towards the resting ferret. "'ow's he doing?" From the looks of the near comatose child not well.

"Far better than he looks let me tell ye. Should be home by tomorrow. I think I'll take a few days off work. Just till he can get back t'day care."

Having found the microwave Bulfie's mother returned with the warmed meal. Dishing out portions the ferrets and otter sat, or stood where ever they could around the hospital room eating the hasty meal.


	15. Chapter 15

Not speaking a word to her father about the conversation she had walked in on, Beth tried to push that memory aside and focus on the dance. Her father had come down with her, but not wanting to appear too protective, allowed his daughter her space. Besides, he was far more interested in conversing with Jennifer about getting access to the archives.

Beth wandered around seeking out her prince. A hare orchestra played a selection of very military sounding waltzes and tunes. All around the dance floor couples twirled and danced. The young squirrel had to keep her eyes peeled for any sign of another squirrel. Sighing lightly, she couldn't spy prince Truffken anywhere.

"Psst..." A whisper came from behind her. It seemed fate had other things in mind. There hidden partially by a stone archway, was the prince. He waved a paw for her to come with him. That silly grin returned to Beth's face and she instantly followed.

"I was afraid I wouldn't see you again. " The prince began, taking her by the paw and guiding her towards the hallway. "Quickly now. I don't want Streambattle spying us. I already gave him the slip. "

Beth followed, her heart fluttered with excitement. It wasn't every day she got to run though the halls of Salamandastron with a prince. "Aren't I supposed to bow to you or something you highness?"

Truffken paused and laughed. "Naw, I'd much rather y'didn't." he winked and suddenly pulled her into another archway. He pressed a paw to his lips, and watched as two Long Patrol officers strolled by.

"That was close." The young princes sounded very relieved. When he was sure that the coast was clear the pair hurried towards a winding flight of stairs. Truffken was most nimble, as were many of his sort. He took the stairs two at a time waiting for Beth to catch up. Striding down two steps he smiled at her.

"Y'know, I think perhaps you're the prettiest squirrel maid I've ever seen."

Behind her red fur Beth flushed. "Er…" She was at a loss for words.

"You don't get many compliments do you?" He smiled warmly.

"Not really, I've never been called the prettiest, much less a squirrel maid before."

Truffken laughed lightly waiting for her in the landing. "Well I am a prince that only speaks the truth."When she caught up with him, he reached for her paw then pulled her towards him. Ever so gently he placed a kiss on her cheek.

Beth gasped with surprise, the sound rewarded with a second tender kiss on her lips. When Truffken pulled away he grinned like an absolute fool.

"My chambers are just up this flight of stairs. Lord Urthbriar has given me a whole suite to myself."

Beth followed up another step, but the butterflies in her gut caused her to falter. "Are you sure about this?"

Truffken hadn't expected such a question. "More sure about this than anything else. Come on lovely. I'm a squirrel prince with a king sized bed all to my lonesome." His face was a picture of mock despair.

Warning bells went off in the teenage squirrel's head. "Excuse me?"

Truffken seemed all the more put off. "Come on, I'm the prince of Southsward. There are squirrel girls all over the world who would give their tails to be where you are now. We're young, we're attractive, isn't like we'll run into each other again. So come on, before Streambattle catches us and ruins all my fun."

"All your fun?"Suddenly Beth's handsome prince was turning into a frog. "I'm not sure I want the sort of fun you're offering."

"Are you seriously turning me down?" The prince's voice lost all the previous gentleness and manners befitting his status. "I'm a prince, what are you? Just a bratty twerp from a place where no one gives a fur about. Sure you look cute in that dress, but at season's end, this might have been the highlight of your life. Hurry up, before I change my mind about you."

Gritting her teeth, and fighting back tears she turned tail and ran down the stairs. Sniffing and feeling embarrassed for thinking that Truffken actually carried about her, Beth nearly collided with Group Captain Tussock.

"Careful there miss." He held out a paw and caught her.

Beth didn't even look up, her eyes puffy, and she was far too upset and embarrassed to say anything. The retired air force officer caught sight of the prince following after her. His face caught in a sneer, he was about to make another cruel comment when he spied the hare. The Group Captain released Beth, letting her rush off back to the dance hall. He turned his attentions to the male squirrel.

"Good evening y'highness. I believe that big otter chap has been looking for you." Tussock spoke gently but firmly. As that was all her cared to say to the prince, he turned and carried on with his business.

88888

Beth wanted nothing more than to leave the party. Her father was so busy talking with Jennifer and the many acquaintances she introduced him too. The young squirrel sat against the wall with a glass of punch, feeling most miserable. She stared into the peach coloured fluid, fighting back another barrage of tears.

"Hello there."

She peered up and found the handsome Captain Tussock who had acted as driver earlier, standing before her.

"Hello." Beth tried to sound happy, for the sake of the hare.

"Don't suppose you'd fancy a dance?" He offered out a paw in the most gentlebeast of manners. When Beth hesitated he withdrew his paw, wriggling his ears. "Ah, well. A buck can always hope wot. Granddad sent me over with strict instructions to cheer you up. Sorry to say miss, I can't very well go back on the ole lags orders. He'd take me scut for tea so he would. "

The young squirrel wasn't in the mood to be taken pity on, but it didn't seem the hare was ready to hear anything of it. She caught sight of a now smug looking prince Truffken across the dance hall. The Captain turned and spied the squirrel as well. Leaning closer to Beth he whispered. "Beg pardon for my saying so, but I rather think you not enjoying y'self is letting that blighter win. Come with me, forget that wretched duffer."

Cheering up if only marginally, Beth followed the hare. They left the dance hall and descended the stairs to another large open room. There was music blaring from within. Not the formal classical sounds from upstairs, but the sort of music that was popular with the younger crowd. All around there were the younger Long Patrol hares, dancing, eating and carrying on. Most still wore the formal dress uniforms, although some had discarded elements along the way. Beth even spied Toby one of the hares she met in the airport. He was sat at one of the tables lining the hall, drinking nettle beer with some of his friends. To her surprise he saw her as well and offered up a wave. Instantly Beth began to feel more at ease, the joy of being at Salamandastron returning.

The Captain guided her towards a table, where a lovely female hare in civilian dress sat chatting with other young officers. "This is my girlfriend Penny." He indicated to the pretty female. "These other chaps, well they don't really matter."

The other hares threw up their paws in protest. "ey now, I'll tell y'wot doesn't matter. That thing growing below yer nose. Wot is that Penny?" one of the young officers joked.

Penny couldn't help but giggle herself. "Oh be nice Rafe, Tam's just trying t'grow his whiskers out into an officer's moustache. "

The Captain's nose twitched as they continued to laugh at his expense.

"Whooo hahah. It looks like some fuzzy caterpillar is residing on his face."

"Rather, I think yer whiskers may be rebelling there chum."

Tussock sat down and accepted a tankard of nettle beer from his girlfriend. " Oh Ha Ha, very funny you lot." He raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "Y'see what I must endure Miss Firdance." He shook his head.

Beth was trying very hard not to laugh. She instantly took a liking to these friends of his. The music changed into that of a slow song. The jovial Rafe clapped his paws swaying to the beat. "Oh I do love this one. Chalky remember this 'un. I danced wit Maggie M'ginnerty t'this very song at our graduation. Wot ever happened t'er?"

A small white hare referred to as Chalky answered without skipping a beat. "Last I heard she married some whallah, then got frightfully fat."

Rafe sighed and clapped his paws again. "Oh pish tish, seems t'be the way o'most things. Right then who's dancing with me?"

With the exception of Penny, all the other hares at the table were male. Penny politely shook her head. To this Rafe grinned and eyes his other friends ears wiggling playfully. As if it was planned all paws pointed towards Beth. The young squirrel didn't so much as have a chance to protest. The hare was up on his powerful hind legs and whisked her off to the dance floor.

At least Rafe was a good dancer, Beth thought to herself. He took the lead spinning her about gracefully. Even though Beth wasn't very good, the hare's talents made her feel as if she were. While Rafe was a fine dancer, he was a horrible singer. Before the song was over Beth was in tears from laughing as the hare comically sang along, purposely changing out words to make her laugh.

"Oh stop it, please I don't think I can breathe I'm laughing so hard." She begged between giggles.

"Good thing I'm with the field ambulance then." And he continued his caterwauling.

When the song had concluded, the hare bowed to his dance partner and they made their way to the refreshments table. Beth was more thirsty than anything else, but couldn't resist a piece of chocolate cake. Rafe carried their goodies back with them, even pulling out Beth's chair upon returning to the table.

"Didn't step on yer toes too much did he missie?" Chalky asked.

"Not at all. He was a proper gentlebeast." Beth smiled.

"Ah, don't go saying that too much. T'will go to the rogues head."

Things had made a full 180 from earlier. Beth got along well with all the younger hares. Never before had she danced so much in her life. Several of the young males approached asking to dance with her, so many she actually had to turn some down. When the faster songs came about she was frequently invited to join groups of females. Her cup of punch never seemed empty; at times she would even have two or three before her.

Penny and a few of the young female hares brought Beth along to the ladies room to freshen up. Beth sat on a small chair by the sink as the hares brushed out their fur or reapplied makeup. Those who were still single chattered and giggled about handsome bucks they fancied. One younger hare, smiled at Beth.

"Perhaps we ought t'bring that handsome prince down this way, so you have another squirrel t'dance with."

To the hare's surprise Beth didn't seem to like the statement. Feeling she could trust these creatures, she told the hares what had happened between her and Truffken. It felt good to get it off her chest.

"He said WHAT!" Penny exclaimed her ears standing ridged." Well I never."

Beth sat back in the chair as a wave of angry haremaids rattled off a list of things they would do to any male who dare say such things to them.

"I know a sergeant who could give that layabout what's coming to him, an' make it look like a jolly accident."

While Beth thought the suggestion was a bit extreme, to her surprise many of the hares seemed o support the idea. Penny quickly stepped in to put an end to it.

"Now ladies, no doubt this Truffken is a regular scoundrel. However, perhaps causing personal injury, no matter how warranted would not be in anybeasts best interest. "There were some grumbles of disagreement. "Besides, my Tam's responsible for escorting him back to the airport. I'm sure the little wretch would absolutely love the driving conversation." She grinned broadly.

Beth's jaw dropped. "He wouldn't"

Penny nodded. "Oh don't worry, if anybeast can put a wretch in their place it is my Tam. Wouldn't be surprised if he cries like a babe by the time he's done with him."

The thought put Beth's mind at east. Long Patrol justice was very sweet indeed.


	16. Chapter 16

Bulfie hadn't slept at all. The entire evening had been spent sitting in what passed as an armchair, watching his son. Rinn awoke twice in the evening; the first time at ten, at which time Bulfie was inducted in the use of a bedpan. Rinn then waited until three to awake again, at which point no fewer than three story books were required to settle him. The ferret yawned watching as the sunlight streamed though the blinds. His young son slept peacefully in his hospital bed, and Bulfie wasn't about to disturb him. Getting to his paws he stretched, his shoulders and back ached from the long time sitting. As it didn't appear like Rinn would awake again for some time, he decided there wasn't any harm in sneaking away to the cafeteria. A hot cup of coffee might just wake him up.

Leaving the room, the ferret first checked in with the nursing station. "Just running down for a cup o'coffee, won't be but a moment. If the little 'un gets up and is looking about fer me, let 'im know I'm coming back." He sincerely hoped that his son wouldn't awake and find his father absent. The kindly nurse assured him that leaving for a few moments would be alright. They had been trying all evening to convince him to go home and get some sleep.

Noting the time on his paw-watch, Bulfie waited for the elevator. Pushing the call button over and over he grumbled. "Bloody lift is slow again." Not wanting to waste any time, he found the stairs and hurried downwards. Just as he exited to the stairwell, who should come out of the elevator but his wife Bluella.

It took Bulfie longer than expected to get a cup of coffee, the line up of hospital staff and family members far exceeded what he expected. Once he got what he came for, he nearly spilled the contents all over himself in the rush to return to his son's side. Clutching the hot beverage he nodded to the nurses and turned the corner to enter the room. He stopped dead in his tracks and just about dropped his coffee.

"Bluella what are you doing here?"

There she was sitting beside a barely awake Rinn. She had made the boy sit upright to enjoy a take-out breakfast she had bought for him. Now, Bulfie had been instructed that due to the surgery Rinn had to be cautious with how he sat, also he should only have soft foods for the next week.

The female ferret smiled coldly towards Bulfie. "An' where were you off to, I found Rinn all alone. Just getting in I 'spose."

Bulfie gritted his teeth, his marriage to Bluella had never been an easy one, but he always promised he wouldn't fight in front of his children. But oh how she baited him.

"I was here, just ran down for a cup of coffee. " He quickly turned his attention to his son. "How y'feeling this morning Rinny?"

"M'belly hurts." The child pouted.

"I know buddy, how's about y'lay back a bit. Dat'll make it feel all the better eh." He coaxed the child to lay back. Then, using the bed's mechanics angled the upper portion of the bed so that Rinn could lie in a half sitting position.

"Doctor said he could only have soft foods." Bulfie spoke flatly, he watched his son prepare to take a bite out of a greasy breakfast sandwich. "Rinny, hows about y'save that there fer laters, try some of that apple juice. "Opening the carton of juice he placed the straw in it and pushed it forward. His quick paws snatched the food away.

Bluella looked offended that Bulfie would deny her son the gift. "I bought him a treat, he deserves it." She grinned as Rinn looked up at his father with confusion. He did deserve it didn't he?

"Yeah, but the doctor wants 'im t'take it easy fer a while. 'Is belly might be upset fer a few more days."

"When is 'e going home."

"Today more than likely, we'll see that 'is doctor says." Bulfie sighed. "I'm going t'take the rest o' the week off t' keep an eye on 'im. Don't want Rinny at daycare wit' 'is belly like it is."

"I'll look after 'im."

Bulfie was hesitant at this suggestion. His soon to be ex-wife was many things, but he wasn't sure she could handle the responsibilities of carrying for a child after surgery. "Y'sure, y'd have t'take the time off work."

She waved this notion off. "Pah, Rieback said her boy was back at school the day after 'e got out of hospital. Rinn 'll be just fine. Yer always babying 'im."

Bulfie ground his teeth again. His patience was quickly wearing thin. As he didn't want to argue in front of Rinn, he motioned towards the door. "A minute Bluella."

Huffing the female ferret followed her former mate out into the hallway, so their son would not hear their conversation.

"I can't let you just dump Rinny back into daycare. If ye' can't get the time off, I'll watch 'im during the day."

"I'm 'is mother Bulfie, I gots rights too." She wagged a paw under his nose.

"Oh I knows Bluella, an' we worked out a schedule fer' that. I know Friday is the start o' yer days wit the young 'uns, but I really think Rinn should stay wit' me until those stitches come out. "

"What is this then, y'gets the male an' I get the maid. Are y' dividing up the family now?" the female ferret hissed. "Don't make me get the lawyers inta this again Bully."

"Yer' threatening me now is ya?" Bulfie shook his head not able to believe what was happening. "I ain't saying y'can't see the lad, I just wants t'watch 'im during the day. If Rinny could get into trouble at daycare, who's t'say he won't do something else to make this worse?"

"So y'thinks I'm a bad parent?" Her voice rose all the louder, to the point it drew the attention of the nurses.

"No, that isn't what I'm saying." Bulfie spoke lowly.

One nurse quietly approached the couple, this sort of arguing wasn't new to her but all the same she had little tolerance for it. "I'm afraid; you will need to sort this out at another time. I can have a social worker called if you require it."

Bulfie saw the look in his wife's eyes, at that moment he wouldn't doubt but she would accuse him of child abuse if it meant she could get her way. "Get the time off work." He sighed then went back in the room to sit with his young son.

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Beth and Dan packed up their suitcases and prepared to catch their flight. The visit had been most productive for Dan, and eventful for his daughter. She animatedly told him all about the dance she had been invited to, reenacting the antics of the young hares she met. Dan smiled nodding as she carried on, although after a while the tales became taxing. As they made their leave the squirrels crossed paths with Captain Tussock. He smiled to them both offering his good-byes.

"You're not taking us to the airport?" Beth sounded most disappointed.

The hare shook his head. "Sorry missy, I'm playing cabbie for another guest. Perhaps next time wot." He shook paws with each squirrel wishing them a safe and happy flight. Waving as they were driven off he remarked to a nearby hare. "Nice squirrels those lot, pleasant sorts t'be around."Then looking at his reflection in a car window he fixed his tunic. He had another task to see too.

Bringing one of the mountains black cars around to the entry way he fiddled with the controls and waited for his passengers. Everything seemed to be in order; he just had one minor task to do before he was ready for the drive.

The squirrel-prince Truffken had received good-byes and well wishes from the most senior officers of the Long Patrol. Lord Urthbriar had politely thanked him for his attendance, and hinted that he hoped Truffken's father or older brother would make the next trip. The youth walked alongside his large otter body guard a sour look plastered upon his features. "Why'd I have to come to Salamandastron anyhow?"

"Because your highness, the relationship between Southsward and Salamandastron is a deeply cherished one. Lord Urthbriar has been a longtime friend of the Queen. "The otter replied flatly. He opened the door for the prince, and then got in on the other side, nodding in greeting to the Captain.

Tussock had a smile on his face as he drove out of the underground parking lot. "Have a good time yer highness?"

The prince offered up a muffled reply, which seemed to indicate yes.

"I understand you briefly misplaced Mr. Streambattle." Tussock continued to keep a light tone about his conversation. It was met by another incoherent sound from the prince. "Normally I wouldn't worry about such a minor incident. After all what chap hasn't run off from their bally supervisor from time to time. What does concern me, is a rather vexing incident that seems to have occurred. "

Truffken crossed his paws before his chest. The otter could only image what had happened to his young charge, and held a look of concern. Jutting out his jaw Truffken addressed the hare.

"Not sure what you're thinking of Captain. I only got distracted by the crowd for a moment. I wasn't in any danger. Not with so many Long Patrol hares there. "

"That is very true laddie buck, the Long Patrol most certainly wouldn't see any harm come to a prince wot. Y'see your highness, we take very good care of all our guests. Treat 'em like family dontcha know. An' if somebeast causes a spot of bother for one o' our family, well, that is a very serious matter. "

Truffken felt his stomach lurch, but the hare continued.

"I understand you were rather ungentlebeast like to a certain squirrelmaid attending our garden party." Tussock gave the hare the opportunity to respond. As he suspected, rather than admit any fault, Truffken was quick to lay blame.

"You misunderstand sir; I hardly spoke to her, beyond a polite hello."

Not taking his eyes off the road Tussock mused. "Funny thing being a hare is. We're dashed fast, perilous fighters, an' some would call our eating habits frightful. But we're rather blessed to have these blooming big ears. Hear all sorts of things they do, things like, I dunno a prince telling a maid she's; Just a bratty twerp from a place where no one gives a fur about."

Truffken went pale, and peering into the rearview mirror Tussock smiled. At last he was getting through to the young squirrel.

"Y'see bucko, princes especially do not address maids in such a manner. And they most certainly do not insult them when they refuse an invitation for share chambers as it were. A gentlebeast is respectful, and kind, and presents himself as an upstanding part of society. You sirrah, are not gentlebeast, you've the manners of a worm and the sense of a jolly acorn. "

Truffken puffed himself up in his seat, still largely ignoring his lecture. "Who are you to say these things t'me."

Tussock laughed, "Well highness if you don't want to listen to me, I jolly well understand. But perhaps you will listen to a beast with more authority wot." He paused before continuing, watching the confused look on the squirrel's face. "Your Majesty, I rather hope you heard that lot on your end wot? Am I coming in loud and clear? These dashed paws free thingamys can be rather confusing."

An older female squirrel voice could clearly be heard over the speakers. "Oh I could hear you quite well Captain Tussock. Truffken, we will be speaking more on this when you return home. Your social outings are going to be drastically reduced young squirrel."

Truffken gulped hearing the voice of his grandmother the queen addressing him. There was no question; he was in for it now.


	17. Chapter 17

The next morning, everything seemed to be going as planned. Wally was the first beast on site, he anticipated a quiet day. The students were done working on the dig site. They would return to their planned internship, assisting with research. Dr. Lockben was also supposed to be back from his holiday, along with Dan and Beth. Buckling on his work belt, the otter gave a friendly smile to the departing security staff. Removing the protective coverings he set back to the slow and steady work with brush and trowel. Carefully clearing away the soil from the remains of what had been a squirrel. He hummed lowly to himself, when he heard a car pull up. He was most surprised to see Bulfie getting out, and trudging over prepared to start working.

"What are you doing here mate?" The otter asked, looking baffled by the sight of the ferret.

Bulfie crouched down and began brushing away the soil, as Wally had previously done. "Bluella managed t'talk me into letting 'er take the kids. I figured I had two options. Either sit at 'ome doing nothing go to the university office and do nothing. Or come here and work with ye muckers."

Wally knew all too well about the strained relationship Bulfie and his separated wife had. Ever since the pair started dating, he had bad feelings about Bluella. Of course, such inklings had to be kept to himself. Bulfie was right; working on the site was perhaps the best option for him.

It wasn't long before Dan and his daughter arrived. Beth was eager to tell Wally and Bulfie all about her adventures. While they worked away, she balanced upon a bucket chattering away as young squirrels frequently do. Unknown to her the others were blocking her out, nodding on occasion to fake interest.

"Sounds lovely missy, how about y'take some photos for us." Wally suggested, his ears nearly talked off.

Cheerful as ever Beth complied, snapping away at photos of the latest artifacts. Snaps were taken of the bits of shark-skin leather that had once made a sling, and the remains of a squirrel lying alongside that of an otter.

Dr. Lockben arrived, nodding approvingly as Beth continued to take pictures. "Don't forget to include a ruler in all those image m'gel." He added passing her by. "Hmm… seems t'be most productive thus far wot." He peered down at the work site. Fixing a wide brimmed sunhat over his long ears the hare joined in, stretching out on a corner of earth, where he too brushed away the soil. "Tell me Dan, wot word from Salamandastron?

Sitting upright, Dan brushed dirt off his fur. "Oh they asked about you, y'know how they get. I think it went quite well. Lord Urthbriar does want to make an appearance, but he's also granted up access to those records."

There was a loud grumbling from Bulfie. "We have t'play host to that badger an 'is 'ares?"

Lockben shot the ferret a cold look, but truthfully even he wasn't thrilled about the idea of official visits interrupting his work.

Wally just held in a laugh, his brush sweeping the outline of his latest uncovered find. As with most otters he rarely took life too seriously. He was roused from his lackadaisical ways when a car pulled up to the site. Two rather puffed up looking bankvoles got out. They each carried surveying equipment and immediately began measuring and marking a nearby plot of land.

"Who're they?" Wally asked Lockben, the hare did tend to know all the goings and comings of his research sites.

"I haven't a bally clue." Lockben looked a little perturbed at their sudden arrival. Strolling over he decided to make introductions and find out what was going on.

"Morning chaps, Dr. Lockben from St. Ninian's university. Wot are you two up to t'day." He offered out a friendly paw in greeting.

The two voles glanced up from their note taking. They spoke not a word at first, just handed the hare a piece of paper. Ignoring the polite offer of a pawshake.

"Sorry, we're in quite a hurry." The first explained.

"No time to chat, the digging crews arrive tomorrow." The second added.

The hare read over the paper. It seemed the Olympic committee and the Mossflower government were pushing ahead with plans to build on the land despite the archaeological work not being completed. Folding the sheet, he tucked it into the breast pocket of his shirt. Saying nothing to the surveying voles he marched right up to the caravan and was heard loudly speaking on the phone.

"I don't blooming well care about your blinking Olympic village! The site is far larger than predicted; I've been in open communication with you about that. A beast could give me the decency of doing the same. Dash it, y'can't send construction crews in unannounced. This is the absolute limit." The conversation continued much the same, with Lockben becoming all the more irate with the minute.

Beth had never heard such shouting before. The camera hung over her neck unused as she slinked back towards her father. "What's going on?" She looked to the others hoping for an answer.

While questions were in abundance, answers were few and far between.

"Back t'work. " Wally encouraged. "If something is amiss best be getting as much as we can get done, done. Come on mates."

Looking quite red in the face Lockben finally emerged from the caravan. He handed the letter off to Wally. "Seems they plan on moving ahead with the buildings faster than we anticipated."

"But they can't." Bulfie said.

"Seems they jolly well can. Although how they sorted it, seasons only knows. "

"We ain't even explored the whole ridge yet. There might be more. We got historical evidence on our side, the whole bit." The ferret pointed down towards the crest of the ridge. "I can almost feel it in me gut that if we dig down there we'll find the Rapscallions."

Wally heaved a sigh reading the letter. "Bulfie, I don't think we're going t'win this one matey."

"Does that mean the dig is over?" Beth asked.

"No no m'gel. We still have this area, just can't explore any further. An' they want us wrapped up by season's end. That means we'll have t'move everything." Lockben didn't appear pleased with this possibility.

"Move everything? Lord Urthbriar isn't going to like that. He offered to voice his concern to the government. Perhaps he can sway them." Dan suggested.

"May help." Wally tried to sound optimistic.

"I'll call his aide; see if we can't get some support. I'll also contact Redwall Abbey. Perhaps we can move up this ceremony, media involvement may encourage public opinion."

The plan was put in motion. If the government was so set on building around the area, Lockben and his crew would fight for the preservation of Mossflower's rich history. Phone calls were put into the office of the Father Abbot of Redwall, as well as the Lord of Salamandastron. While they could not stop construction crews arriving the next day, their arrival would also co-inside with a special visit from the Abbot. A visit that would bring media, which would interrupt with building. The hare got little work done on site. Immediately after making the phone calls he was on the computer writing up press releases, and emails to the varying officials involved. After all one couldn't expect to cross a determined hare, and not meet with a fight.


	18. Chapter 18

The construction crew arrived, right on schedule. In the span of a day the peaceful ridge had transformed into an industrial worksite. Mole crews in hard hats wasted little time mixing cement and laying foundation. Bulfie ventured to watch a moment clicking his teeth in distaste.

"Wretched thing t'watch eh." He remarked to no beast in particular.

The dig site felt all the more somber today. No beast laughing or joking as they usually did. Wally worked in absolute silence, as he painstakingly recorded every tiny detail. Beth helped her father sift though buckets of soil, looking for smaller artifacts that might have been left behind. She made a face as the sound of drilling echoed though the summer air. "Sure is noisy." She shouted over the din.

"Get used to it." Bulfie shouted back unsympathetically. Of course the moment the quick words left his lips he instantly felt terrible. He hadn't meant to let his short temper loose on Beth.

The young squirrel seemed no worse for wear. She ran her paw over the mesh screen pushing the soil through. "I hope they quiet down when the Abbot gets here." While she hadn't said anything she was curious as to what the visit would entail. After all there were two partially visible skeletons in the soil; it didn't seem like the sort of thing the news would want to broadcast. Before she could venture to ask, Wally recruited her for the task or resolving this. The solution was quite simple, white sheets would be placed over the bodies. As she carefully draped the sheets over the remains she felt the act to be most morbid. At the start of the season the remains had frightened her, even gave her nightmares. Now she had acclimated to the work. Folding the edges of the sheet she tucked it around the small squirrel. Beth found some stones and used them to weigh down the sheet, lest it blow away. As she turned she smiled down at her handy work. "Sleep tight Leroy, night night Francis."

The ferret was cleaning up his tools beside Beth. He blinked several times, and then grinned. "Ah, friends of yours are they?" he recalled the first day when he encouraged her to name the bodies.

Beth nodded. "They sure are Bulfie, I'm sure they're telling you lots of stories. But I think they may be worried that some of their friends won't be found"

Bulfie heaved a sigh, returning his small tools to his work belt. "I know, I suspect that this area is fairly contained as a burial site. But it is hard to tell what else might be around. Pity it don't look like we'll ever know."

Lockben pulled up to the site, the hare was dressed in a full suit and tie looking most official. He had a worried look on his normally calm features. As he was the dean the media would be looking to him for interviews. The rest of the team hadn't bothered to dress up, as the attention wasn't on them. The Abbot's visit and news conference just meant losing two hours of work time.

The hare patrolled around the dig site, making sure everything was neat and tidy. Bulfie couldn't help but toss a sarcastic salute as the hare marched on by. Checking his watch Lockben seemed to become more and more anxious by the minute.

"The Abbot and news presenters will be here any minute now." He cringed at the sound of construction. "I rather hope that din pipes down. Wally, d'ye mind having a word with their foremole?"

Wally excused himself crossing to the other side of the ridge to talk with the construction crew. Meanwhile, the dig site was visited by a rather familiar face.

"Jennifer?" Dr. Lockben was taken aback seeing the weasel again so soon. The trim weasel smiled, stepping out of the car.

"Hello Dr. Lockben, heard you got new neighbours." She nodded towards the construction crews. "Sorry I didn't call ahead, I went by the university, but when they said you were here I thought I ought to come right over."

"I'm sorry m'dear, but we're rather busy today wot. Abbot Alfred is due at any minute."

The weasel nodded understandingly. "Yes, your office informed me of this, I just thought perhaps you would like to have a peak at the gift I brought." She motioned for the team to come to the car. Traveling with her was Captain Tussock. Beth smiled, pleased to see the kind hare again. Winking to the young squirrel Tussock unlocked the back seat. Inside was a special protective case. Fumbling with the keys the hare opened it up. There inside, was a large barkcloth bound book. "Just some light bedtime reading for y'chaps."

Dr. Lockben couldn't believe his eyes, pacing forward his jaw dropped. "That's, that's…"

Jennifer nodded. "Compliments of Lord Urthbriar himself, of course it is only on loan from the Salamandastron records."

Lockben could practically feel his paws itch, he wanted to read the tome so badly.

"Does that have all the information about the battle?" Beth asked, she hadn't seen any document this old before.

"It does one better missy." Tussock smiled. "Our historian wallah had a peek at it before sending it along, said it has copies of the full recruits list. Never was much of a history buff, but the chaps say Lord Russano was top notch when it came to keeping important writings. Mayhaps that's why they called him Russano the scholar."

"T'was Russano the wise actually." Lockben corrected.

Tussock shrugged and locked up the book once more. More cars were arriving now, news crews, and of course Abbot Alfred.

Beth was slightly disappointed by the Abbot. She had seen him on the news before, and had expected he would be taller. Instead to the teenager, he looked nothing more than an old mouse in a bathrobe. His frail paws her folded in his wide habit sleeves. Alfred strolled towards them with another mouse in a deep green habit. Recognizing Lockben immediately he held his paws wide in greeting. Departing from the others the hare quickly joined the Abbot to discuss the matters of the day.

Beth's attention was on the Long Patrol officer. "Are you visiting long?"

Tussock shook his head. "Just a few days, they wanted an official escort for the book dontcha know. The bally thing is still considered a military record, even if it's nearly a thousand blinking years old. Now isn't that the strangest thing you've ever heard?"

They shared a laugh and the hare continued. "I don't mind though. Penny came along too, she's off with her girlfriends. Picking out wedding dresses more than likely." He grinned and shook his head. "Quite the to do with the Abbot being here and all wot?" he nodded towards the elderly mouse. "'spose y'don't get things like this in your neck of the woods."

The young squirrel shook her head. "No, that's for sure."She watched as one of the news reporters interviewed the Abbot and Lockben. "Dad, do you think they can save the site?"

Dan patted his daughter on the shoulder. "Hard to say at this point Beth, but we can always hope."

With the interview over Abbot Alfred and his small contingent of Abbey mice walked solemnly towards the dig site. The cameras followed close behind. Lockben guided him around where they had been digging, explaining the procedure and all the other boring technical stuff. Beth tuned all this out, standing just outside of the camera's view, but close enough to hear and watch everything. Wally returned, slipping into the small forming crowd. He appeared to have been successful as the noise had died down considerably. Even a few of the moles had come over to see what the Abbot had to say, each removing their hard hats respectfully.

Abbot Alfred cleared his throat and stood before the news cameras. Peering through thick glasses he read from a speech he had prepared.

"I stand before you today, humbled and in great admiration for what is taking place here. What was once lost to our history has been rediscovered. Many fine creatures from St. Ninian's university have toiled long hours in the summer sun, to answer our questions of our past. History tells us that Mossflower was not always the land of prosperity and peace it is today. There has long been strife and hardship, throughout the ages Redwall has stood as a symbol of harmony and sanctuary during these most trying times. It can be easy for us to forget that in the far reaches of the past, we nearly lost everything. These warriors, the brave creatures entombed here, perhaps only dreamt of the world we enjoy. They sacrificed their lives so that the old, and young would enjoy a woodland free of tyranny and death. It is for these brave creatures that now rest in the dark forest, I say these words of gratitude and thanks. Without them, we might not be here this day. Please join me in a moment of silent thought for those who gave their young lives for our woodland." The old mouse raised his paws and bowed his head. The other robed mice folded their paws before them and bowed their heads.

Glancing around Beth noticed other creatures following these actions. So to not draw attention to herself she bowed her head as well. Glancing around she wondered how long this moment would last. It seemed to go on for a life time. Beth didn't really know what thoughts Abbot Alfred wanted her to think. Sure she thought it was sad that young creatures died, or that any creature was killed in war. For Beth this battle was so far removed in the past, it didn't really strike her as particularly sad anymore.

When the moment ended, the Abbot thanked all the news casters for being there, then went along for more interviews. Beth just stood around, unsure of what she ought to do. They couldn't exactly return to work with so many creatures around. So she milled about, trying not to look too awkward. She was about to talk to Bulfie, when she saw the ferret talking on his phone. With a cross look on his face he put the mobile back in his pocket and headed towards the car. There was no explanation, he just drove off.

"What happened?" She asked a baffled looking Wally.

The otter had grown used to this from Bulfie. "Probably something up with his kids again."


	19. Chapter 19

At the conclusion of the workday, they all gathered in Dr. Lockben's office. Beth had never visited St. Ninian's university before. To the teenage squirrel, the stone buildings with their faint pink hues appeared more like castles than institutes of education. The old hare's office was also a wonder to behold. The walls were lines in oak paneling and inset bookcases. Rows upon rows of barkcloth bound texts lined each shelf. Each book was shiny with the special sap resin used to preserve the bindings. Anxiously sitting at his desk, Lockben watched as Captain Tussock unlocked the case containing the ancient document. Everybeast seemed to hold their breath as Lockben donned the special white gloves and turned open the cover. Wally regretted that Bulfie would be absent for this exciting moment. The ferret hadn't responded to a single one of his messages. Wally could only presume whatever it was that had called his friend away had been most important.

Lockben's heart seemed to be skipping several beats as he adjusted his glasses and glanced over the writing. The script was quite old, as was to be expected, and it was written in the Old Woodland. For a learned scholar like Lockben, it offered little trouble. What did trouble him, was Wally and Dan hovering in his light. His whiskers twitched in annoyance.

"Do you chaps think you could stand back a bit?" He spoke trying not to reprimand the excited pair.

Squirrel and otter took a pace back still straining to catch glimpses. The pages turned slowly, the hare worked gingerly knowing how fragile the book truly was. Part way through he discovered a loose sheet. It was written in an entirely different script from the rest. With his ears standing straight up Lockben announced, "This is it. By Jove, this must be it."

Forgetting the previous request Wally and Dan crowded in again. This time they were joined by Captain Tussock, and Jennifer who had also tagged along. Beth sat across watching the adults all scrambling to catch sight of the paper. Clearing her throat she asked. "What's it say Dr. Lockben, could you read it out to me?" She wasn't about to crowd in there, so she fluttered her eyelashes sweetly looking for all the world the charming inquisitive maiden.

It worked, the old hare was happy to oblige. Unfortunately for Beth, rather than just relate the information, he turned it into a lesson. Unlike her father and Wally, Lockben could be in a word, dry.

"Well, you see young miss. This particular document is not written in the same paw as the rest. Also, towards the bottom it is signed. "He squinted at the signature. "Hmm, L. T. Morio" It took him but a moment to uncover the meaning of the initials. "Ah, Lieutenant Morio. Must have been the chaps rank and name. "He mused a moment longer glancing over the text. "When you get a look at this young'un there are some absolutely brilliant examples of spelling differentials. Y'see the language wasn't formalized until many centuries later. As result most beasts tended to spell things phonetically, we see a lot of dialect written into the works of moles and hares in particular. "

He paused again, and allowed Dan and Wally to take a few quick glances over. "Isn't this just a wealth of knowledge? If this beast was here today I'd jolly well kiss him so I would. Look here, the names and descriptions of two hundred and eighty-three woodland volunteers. Not to mention the names of twelve patrol hares."

To Beth's delight, he finally began to read extracts from the document.

"_Name: Arven Squirrel _

_Occupation: Warrior of Redwall_

_Description upon enlisting: Red squirrel, average height, muscular build, in good health and sturdy resolve. _

_Name: Bogwill Streamer_

_Occupation: Fisherbeast_

_Description upon enlisting: River otter, short stature, portly build, well past middle seasons. _

_Name: Moss Riverdriver_

_Occupation: Carpenters apprentice_

_Description upon enlisting: River otter, average height, small build, in thirteenth season, permission to enlist granted by mother, shows promising skill with sling. "_

Beth listened as the names and descriptions were read out. "Thirteen?" She piped up. Lockben paused in his reading and nodded. "Yes of course, a beast was considered near grown at that age. Not like today. "

The teenage squirrel thought on this a moment. She was but sixteen and she didn't feel anywhere near grown. Whatever was this young otter thinking to go on to war? All the thirteen season-olds she knew were nothing but spoiled brats. She couldn't fathom having the maturity to undertake such a task.

Lockben then turned his attentions back to the book. "See here, the Salamandastron records of the five-hundred odd beasts sent to march, many new recruits by the looks of it. " He silently read along until he came to the list they wanted. "Casualties of the Battle of a Thousand." He read the title out loud. A hush fell over the room as Lockben scanned through the names.

"_Furgale- Fourteen seasons, Officers clerk, No known next of kin_

_Reeve Starbuck- Fourteen seasons, Runner, Father and Mother at Salamandastron_

_Lieutenant Morio- Twenty seven seasons, Patrol Quartermaster, Sister at Salamandastron, Niece on Patrol."_

He continued to read through, pausing re-reading sections. Wally took a seat saying. "Well, one mystery is solved." The others glanced curiously towards him. "We found a lieutenant early on in the dig. Must be this Morio fella."

There were several nods of agreement. "Given the level of detail, it shouldn't be hard to put names with many of the remains. " Dan added. This news was most welcomed by the Long Patrol Captain. "My word, that would be absolutely splendid."

Beth watched with growing boredom as the adults continued to converse about the old documents. At first they had seemed exciting to the youth. Now they were just plain boring, and she regretted tagging along. Wally, having teenagers of his own, knew the tell tale signs. The heavy sighs, crossed arms, and the eye rolls. Not to mention the occasional glances of distain. Oh the joys of adolescence, one moment excited about everything, the next terribly uninterested. He himself was counting down the days for when his own children grew up, and their brains fully developed enough to act like sensible creatures. He stood and offered Beth an alternative solution.

"How's about y'make a snug berth in me office? I got a computer and what not. No doubt y'can entertain yerself that way for a spell."

Beth all but leaped to her foot paws. Trying not to laugh Wally showed her to his office. It was only around the corner. Far smaller than that of Dr. Lockben's, Wally's office was in a state of disarray. Unmarked papers from the distance course he was teaching sat in a pile, mixed in with news paper clippings, receipts, and other dig related documents. He hastily removed a pile of books from his desk chair, and rolled it on the small patch of bare floor. "Here y'go." He smiled.

Beth looked around, wondering if the varying piles would tumble upon her. "Umm... thanks." She mustered up a smile.

The otter logged her in to his work computer, and then made his leave. "Don't download nothing that will get me fired." He winked, knowing she would never do such a thing.

What had started as an evening of boring history lessons, quickly turned into a night of short, but pointlessly funny YouTube videos.


	20. Chapter 20

Reinvigorated with the information the documents had given them, the team eagerly returned to work early the next day. Dr. Lockben was busy driving between the dig site, and the special holding facility at the university examining the remains and trying to put names to each. While he couldn't make copies of the lists the ancient book contained, he made several notes which would help him in his efforts.

Bulfie was absent again. It seemed he would be delayed another number of days. Wally explained, that after a series of frantic and hastily written emails, it seemed the divorce proceedings were back in full swing. Also his young son had a minor infection at the incision site, but was recovering nicely in his father's care.

Both Wally and Dan worked extra hard to make up for the missing beast. Beth for her part tried to be as useful as possible. She tagged artifacts and boxed them up, being sure to label everything as her father taught her. The din of the construction workers was enough to drive any beast mad. Beth was somewhat happy Bulfie couldn't be with them. The builders worked at surprising speed. Already, down below the ridge a large parking lot had been formed, and several buildings took shape. The parking lot landed right over the area where the ferret suspected the bodies of the foebeasts were left. The young squirrel paused a moment, casting a sorrowful glance towards the spot. Turning back to the dig site, she returned to her assigned tasks.

She had heard Wally and her father talking earlier. It seemed The Abbot of Redwall hadn't be able to convince the government to chance their building plans. This weighed heavily on the young squirrel. After all, shouldn't the Father Abbot of Redwall Abbey count for something?

Further contemplation was ended when she saw Dr. Lockben's car pull up. This time the busy hare was accompanied by another. A young hare, not far off from Beth's age. He wore work clothes, and a very annoyed look about his features. Beth watched as the pair approached. Lockben placed a firm paw on the younger's shoulder, presenting him before the young squirrel.

"This laddo is m'boy Portan, as we're short on paws he'll be helping you missy." He gently shoved his son forward. "Show him how things are done, there's a good gel." As quickly as he had arrived the hare was off again.

Beth sized up the tall hare standing before her, as he sized up here. "So you're Dr. Lockben's son." She smiled warmly.

"Yeah, he just said that didn't he. I say, are you a touch slow?" The hare retorted.

She cast him an annoyed glare. "Well, I'm Beth, if we're going to be working together might as well get to it." She passed him a bucket of soil and led him to the large sifting frame. "We gotta sift the dirt t'make sure we haven't missed anything."

Portan eyed the sifter doubtfully. "Rather filthy work this, doubt health and safety would approve. Practically slave labour I would wager. "

Paws on hips she waited for the hare."Are you going to complain the whole time, or get to work?"

"Bit snappy aren't you?"

"Only when annoyed."

The young hare finally poured the soil through the screen, sifting it as Beth demonstrated. He smirked, taking a bit of a shine to the squirrel. "You're forced into this too as I hear."

Beth smiled. "Not really forced, Dan's my father."

He cast a glance back to the squirrel in question. "Just the two of you huh?"

She shook her head, adding more soil to the sifter. "Naw, I'm an only child, but my mom is back in Toronto. What about you?"

Portan wiggled his ears, much to Beth's amusement. "Youngest of three. Sort of a surprise as it were." He winked at his own little joke, Beth catching the meaning.

The pair quickly fell into a routine. As much as Portan was lazy, Beth could be a task master. He was set the dirt sifting duty, while she finished labeling all the artifacts her father or Wally presented her with. She didn't quite trust the hare to delicately wrap the items. He seemed like the sort to drop or damage these precious finds. Once Portan proved sufficient and the heavy lifting, and lugging of dirt, she allowed him the task of photographer. Unfortunately the hare had no skill at this what so ever so the task was revoked.

Before they knew it the sun was dipping lower and lower. Dr. Lockben had arranged for lights and generators to be delivered so Wally and Dan could work into the evening. Time was ticking after all. However for Portan and Beth, their tasks would end in time for supper. Portan was picked up first by his mother and taken on home. Beth lingered around waiting for her father to take a break, so that she too could go back to the rental cottage. Instead Wally had an alternate suggestion.

"Would you like to go to a movie with Nance and the twins?" He asked.

Brushing dust off her jeans Beth nodded. "Yeah, sure, but I'll need to change first. "

"Don't worry, 'tis a midnight showing." Wally explained. "Do you like the Taggerung movies?"

The films in question were only the hottest series of films to be released in the last four years. The trilogy loosely, very loosely based on the historical events surrounding an otter raised by a vermin tribe. As with many teens, Beth knew it well. Her eyes went wide with excitement.

"Do I, but I thought the last one wasn't out until the fall?"

Wally smiled. "They're released earlier here. I managed an extra ticket for the midnight showing, but Nance's pal is sick. How about you go. I'll have May pick you up, you can swing by the house and get ready."

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Beth was in her glee. May picked her up, and took her by the rental cottage. In record speed the teenage squirrel got washed, changed, and booted it out the door and back in the car. It was seven thirty by the time they reached the house. May called out to her children as she entered the home.

"Beth's here, you lot ready t'go?"

A thunder of paws greeted her. Willy and Durvy wore matching t-shirts carrying the image of the film's hero, a powerful painted river otter. Nance came in close behind, she looked equally excited, but tried to hide it as her younger brothers were in attendance. Lagging behind was Annie, she was too young to go to the film. She clutched her grandfather's paw looking most unhappy.

May bent down to cheer her youngest up. "Now, we went over this Annie. You and Poppy are staying in this evening. Tonight is all about the tea party and Disney Princess marathon."

This cheered up her daughter, and caused her father to heave a heavy sigh. "Oh the things I does for me little princess." He patted his granddaughter on the head, and lead her from the porch. "Mayhaps we'll take a walk t'the shop and buy some sweets."

The otterwife was playing the role of driver this evening. As Beth was a guest, she was permitted the front seat of the car. The local movie theatre wasn't far from the otter's home. It was a large complex with eleven theatres and one Imax screen. The largest of which "Taggerung: A warriors return" was being played upon. May took out her purse and began distributing tickets and money. "Nance, y'don't have to mind yer brothers, but don't cause any fuss with 'em. Boys, same goes t'you. Here's some money for the boys, and some for the girls. Get yerselves some supper an' snacks outta that. An' have fun." She sent them on their way knowing they were bound to have a good time.

Like two opposite poles the males went one way and the maids the other. The twins quickly met up with some school friends in the arcade, while Beth and Nance wandered around the food court area deciding what to have for supper.

"Thanks for letting me come along."Beth piped up over the many sounds in the threatre.

"I'm just glad I don't have t'be stuck with me two brothers." Nance laughed. "So whatcha want t'eat?"

The two teenagers settled on pizza, as the pizza stand had the shortest line-up. Taking their cheesy slices to the nearest table they could find, they commenced to watch the flood of creatures coming to see the film. Most were young bests, those in their mid-teens to mid twenties. Standing out like sore thumbs were older creatures; most parents taking their kids, with one or two going for their own amusement. Beth knew how big these films were, but had never gone to a midnight showing. Taking a few bites of pizza her jaw dropped. Nance blinked. "What is it?" Turning her head around the young otter spotted what had caught Beth's eye.

A small contingent of university ages creatures walked into the cinema complex. Each were garbed as various characters from the film. A tall male otter strode boldly in wearing a kilt. His face painted with the various markings and symbols associated with a Taggerung. Beside him a mouse friend, dressed in a yellow tunic, and wielding a fake, but convincing looking battle axe. With them was a fox garbed as one of the Juska tribe, and a female otter. The otter had sprayed her fur with some sort of dye to make it look silvery white, she wore provocative clothing decorated with shells and strange beads.

Nance nudged the squirrel. "She's supposed t'be Rukky Garge the otter fixed. Dad says that Rukky really existed back in the day. But she wasn't no looker like she is in the movie. Naw, she was old."

The two had a good giggle over this.

As more and more spotted the dressed up creatures, cheers rose from the crowd waiting for the movie. Those in costume stayed in character, much to the amusement of onlookers. Suddenly a pretend battle began between the dressed up Taggerung, and the fox. Armed with pretend weapons they comically wrestled and fought. Fans cheered and urged them on. The staff however stepped in and politely asked the pair to put an end to the antics, or they would have to leave. To the onlookers disappointment the pair gave it up, and proceeded to wait in line.

Once their supper was done, Beth and Nance too joined the lineup. The building was a buzz of excitement. More dressed up creatures arrived. Within the hour there was no fewer than fifteen Taggerungs, some not even otters. One of the staff handed out temporary tattoos. Pink speedwell flowers meant to be the birthmark of the otter hero.

Hyped up with excitement, and junk food Beth forgot about the troubles posed to the dig site. Tonight she was just a kid.


	21. Chapter 21

_August_

Work at the dig site had begun winding down. By contrast, the work on the new buildings was kicked into high gear. Many of the new buildings were taking shape. What had once been little more than iron work was now highly styled living quarters and pavilions that made up the Olympic village. The media presented the buildings as marvels of cultural ingenuity and green technologies. They did love to praise the construction for embracing Mossflowers diversity and lore. Conveniently, it was ignored that after the games these would be sold off as high priced flats.

Dr. Lockben had rarely been seen the past few weeks. He was usually tucked away in his office, taking calls and complaints from all sides. The Olympic committee was breathing down his neck wanting his team moved as quickly as possible. Then there was the museum complaining that they hadn't the space to store all the artifacts and remains. The university wanted to know why the dig was costing them so much money, but this the hare politely ignored. Dr. Lockben was a seasoned researcher, and a highly qualified department head. He could handle administration duties, but as with any job there are always surprises.

Lockben was never known to be caught off guard. He always had a firm grasp of matters at paw. This all changed when the hare received a copy of a formal letter sent to the government of Mossflower from Salamandastron. True to his word Lord Urthbriar had been in correspondence with Mossflower's government and Olympic committee regarding preservation of the site. The hare had received little information as to how well these conversations went. When the letter arrived he could only assume it was good news, even in the twenty-first century few wanted to cross a badgerlord.

Opening the crisp envelope, his eyes quickly darted over the letterhead and preamble. Ears stiffening Lockben had to re-read the document twice to be sure he had read it correctly. Salamandastron wanted the remains of Long Patrol hares returned for burial? It couldn't be, it went against every historical and anthropological rule known to all hare-kind. With whiskers twitched he read it a third time. No, it was correct. Lord Urthbriar wanted the remains removed from storage and flown with full military honours back to the shores of Salamandastron.

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Bulfie pulled up to the dig site. He had been in and out the past month. Most of his evenings were spent in the dingy basement of the Mossflower National Museum recording data and identifying remains. His days were otherwise occupied, that was until today.

"I am officially single." He announced throwing his paws wide.

Wally glanced up from where he was working; he looked tired both physically and mentally. Despite his weariness he couldn't help but make a saucy remark to his long time friend. " What'cha telling us for? Beth's too young for ye' and me an' Dan ain't gonna take you."

"There's always Jenny, Wally why not call her and let her know." Dan teased, knowing full well the historian weasel was not one of Bulfie's favourite creatures.

Bulfie set himself to work. Taking up some un-needed stakes and wrapping the twine around them. "Sadly mate, she's taken. I heard at the museum last night that she's marrying her partner. Not that I'd ever have a chance with her. "Bulfie placed the back of his paw to his forehead pretending to be distraught.

Beth shook her head, times like this she felt like the responsible adult. Her time in Mossflower was drawing to a close. They had uncovered what they could, and now they were on their last week. Reflecting back on the season, she felt it would be odd not arriving at the ridge each morning. "Can't we do more digging?" She asked.

Her father patted her shoulder. "Sweet heart, we've done what we can here. Now it is time to wrap up and prepare to go home."

Wally said nothing but nodded, echoing the squirrel's statement. She glanced to the ferret expecting much the same. However, to her delight he seemed to agree with her.

"Aw, come on mates. Just a bit more can't hurt. I'd like t'make a few more holes for those over stuffed voles to cover. " He smirked wickedly. "Missie, dig where y'likes. Us three can continue the dismantling. If she finds something she finds something, if not, oh well."

Wally was about to protest, but being a father himself he was a bit softhearted towards the teenagers desire. Letting Beth use the remaining tools, he left her to her own devices.

Beth stood looking over the turned up soil. Permission to dig where she pleased, it was highly unorthodox, but exciting. Taking a deep breath of fresh woodland air, she glanced over the emerging Olympic village. The once peaceful ridge now echoed with sounds of voices and machinery. As a squirrel she found it a little unsettling looking at buildings meant to mimic the design of trees. It seemed especially strange when trees were cut down for this purpose. Back in Toronto the urban squall seemed to know no bounds. At least city planners had managed to maintain some green space. Mossflower however had managed to maintain much of the woodland charm. Although a good deal of forest was removed during the industrial revolution, many beasts continued to hold onto the identity of woodlanders. There were roads and trains and more buildings but there were still mighty trees which may have stood in the days of warriors, there were clean rivers and streams, there was fresh air. Upon arriving Beth had found the rental cottage quaint and amusing. It was so old, yet had all the modern needs and desires. She had assumed places like this were the exception, but they were not. Most residence of this region lived in similar homes. To her utter amazement, some squirrels still lived in dray-style homes. These were houses build in and around living trees. Beth's first question upon discovering this was: how do you get a toilet in a tree.

Mossflower had a unique relationship with nature, unlike anywhere else in the world. The only exception was this Olympic village. It was beautiful, but it didn't seem to fit the area. With this in the background, the young squirrel picked her spot to dig. Ten paces from where the first body was found she put in her shovel. She used a garden spade, she didn't have time to carefully uncover the soil and look for tiny details. Her muscles had strengthened throughout this little adventure. When she first arrived it was a struggled to manage the soil. Now she cut through it as if it were butter. Not far off Wally and Bulfie dismantled the tripod and sifting screens they had used to look for small artifacts. The pair sang, or rather attempted to sing_ Whiskey in the Jar. _Every few lines they would get into an argument as to the correct lyrics.

"The line is: The devil takes the women for they never can be easy."

"No mate it's: The devil take the women 'cause they're oft times deceiving."

"No it isn't Bulfie, where'd y' hear that. "

"That's how I always sings it."

"Well yer singing it wrong."

"Can't be."

"What d'ye mean y'can't be? Y'are. The line is: The devil take the women for they never can be easy."

"No it ain't. I'd know, I'm a ferret so I can't sing this song wrong."

Wally shook his head and continued dismantling the frame. They were singing again the argument forgotten, until another questionable line came up.

"Jenny is darling and sporting." Wally said matter of factly.

"What?"

"In the song. Jenny is darling and sporting, not darling and handsome. "

"Well in me version she's handsome. " He stuck his tongue out, again settling the disagreement.

"What are you five?"

"I figure it works with Rinny, can't hurt to try." Bulfie winked.

Beth had at this point managed a fair sized hole. Pulling out three more shovels of soil, the spade hit something. Brushing away the earth with a paw, she sighed, only a rock. About to give up discouraged she noticed there was something strange about the stone. There were holes made in it. Normal rocks didn't have holes, brushing more earth away she could make out what looked like lettering. "Umm… Dad, Wally, Bulfie. Look at this."

The three came over, alerted by the excited tone in the girl's voice. Dan stooped down running a paw over the exposed rock face. "Looks like some sort of marker."

The others nodded in agreement. Taking out shovels they tossed all archaeological rules aside, and focused on digging out the stone. Between the four of them it was fully exposed in short time. Bulfie brushed away the last of the dirt, emptying some of his water bottle over it so the lettering could be clearer.

Beth couldn't help but swell up with pride. It was her find after all. Her father smiled. "Well done Beth. What a marvelous way to end off the dig."

The young squirrel helped clean away the stone. "Well what is it. What do the words say?"

Bulfie studied the carved letters. Some of the words were a little faded with time, but getting gist of the wording he explained. " It is a monument. It was made to honour those who died at the battle. There is a poem as well, but Lockben is better with linguistic than I. He might be able to give it a better translation. These holes, it looks as if they were made to hold flags or something. Whatever it was, they're long gone now. Might have been made of wood, or valuable metals and later taken. "

There were nods and murmurs of agreement.

"You mean I actually found something important." The young squirrel squeaked in disbelief.

"I should say, this is the marker for the site. Lockben's ears are going to twist in knots when he finds out about this. " Wally said, reaffirming Beth's new found sense of achievement.

Again more squeaks of teenage delight were heard.

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When Dr. Lockben's office phone rang, he looked at the caller display with an overwhelming sense of impending doom. Wally's mobile number frequently streaked across the small display screen. As of late it was met with disruptions. Delays at the dig site, conflicts with contractors, media that showed up out of the blue, all things that gave the hare a headache. Bracing himself he picked up the receiver.

"Yes, Lockben here." He used what he deemed to be his department head voice. Something that only seemed to be used whenever he inhabited his office.

On the other end of the line, Wally explained the last find.

"Are you quite sure." For some reason, he couldn't help but feel the otter was playing a cruel trick on him. Perhaps a scheme Bulfie came up with, Lockben wouldn't put it past that ferret to plot something along such lines.

Wally confirmed the truth, encouraging Lockben to come and see for himself. Of course duties kept him in his office. But he had every intention of investigating for himself. Hanging up the phone Lockben smiled, for the first time all day. In the records sent over from Salamandastron he had read of such a monument. When it hadn't been found, he assumed that it had been lost in time. He never dreamed it would be found, much less in the condition it was. The flag and massive pike-axe were gone, lamentable, but otherwise not surprising. That it survived with most of the lettering still legible truly made Lockben's week.

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After a long day at the office, the hare was pleased to return home. His wife Claria stood ready in the hallway, dressed to go out and purse in paw. She glanced at the bemused look on her husband's face. "You forgot it is Tuesday again haven't you."

Lockben blinked, mulling over in his mind the importance of the evening.

"Every second Tuesday…" Claria prompted. When her husband made no reply she finished the explanation. "Every second Tuesday we go to the Woodsorrel's for Bridge."

He rubbed his temples, how could he have forgotten. "I suppose I ought to change." He was still wearing his sports coat and casual tie he wore around the office. Claria fixed his tie, kissing him affectionately on the cheek. "Nonsense, you look absolutely splendid. Come along dear, we don't want to be tardy."

A game of cards was the last thing Lockben wanted to do. However, he couldn't stand to see his beloved Claria upset, and she so looked forward to cards with Mr. and Mrs. Woodsorrel.


	22. Chapter 22

"Sackfirth, is everything alright?"

The hare blinked as if dazed a moment. The voice of his wife seemed distant. Clearing his throat his kept his eyes on the road. "'course m'dear." He replied quickly.

Claria didn't seem convinced. "I only ask, because you passed the turn off for the Woodsorrel's fifteen minutes back." There was no hint of annoyance or mocking in the statement. Only concern, it was so unlike her husband to make such a mistake.

Huffing he turned off to the shoulder of the road. He was about to turn the car around when Claria stopped him.

"Sackfirth, something is the matter. What is it that troubles you? Is it the matter with that construction nonsense?" She patted her husband's paw fondly. "I'll call the Woodsorrels, we can always play bridge another night. "

"Oh don't do that Claria. We never miss a blinking card night. I jolly won't make it a habit of piping out on our friends now."

"Nonsense m'dear. Won't be any harm at all. Truth be told I wasn't really in the mood for a game this evening. I only went along out of a feeling of obligation. "She waved a paw and took out her mobile phone from her purse. Pressing a paw to her lips she dialed the number and waited for the other end to pick up. "Agnes, its Claria." She began making her voice sound hoarse. "Sorry to say we won't be able to make it to bridge this evening. Yes, I was rather looking forward to it too. Seem I've come down with one of these dashed summer colds. Wouldn't want you or Bertie to catch it wot… Yes of course, I'll pass your kind regards to Sackfirth. Perhaps we'll have tea next Saturday." Exchanging a few more pleasantries she hung up the phone.

Her husband just watched in silent amazement, his typically calm and polite wife was never one for lying. As if reading his mind Claria wiggled her ears smiling. "Well it wasn't really lying m'dear. It was only a small fib. Now then, why not show me what all this fuss has been about."

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The site was empty; the others had gone home for the evening. The construction crews too had ceased work. Peace once again fell over the ridge, the sun slowly nestling down for a rest before rising anew. For the harewife the site didn't hold the same wonder and majesty that it did for her scholarly husband. Most of the equipment had been packed up. Crews from the university would be by in the morning to help remove the remaining structures. Even the caravan that served as home base would be trucked away by week's end. This was a sad sight for Lockben. He had seen many wrap ups before, where there was a beginning there had to be an end. In this particular dig it was a bitter sweet occasion. While they had been able to uncover a number of artifacts all of which would be further studied, there was the looming barrier just beyond. This was progress, the desire for something more, something better, something grander. The hare blamed no beast for what was happening. It was the nature of things. One generation passes a new must take its place, and they must pick and choose what they remember, and what they leave behind.

Strolling around the upturned mounds of earth, he didn't bother to explain to Claria the significance of each paw step. Each was content in simply being there. Claria might not hold the same understanding, but she knew the significance from her husband's love of what he did. Taking her paw he showed her the rock monument.

"I suppose if anything had to be uncovered last, I'm rather pleased it was this."

Squeezing her husband's paw lightly she asked. "Is this stone really that important?" asked.

She had expected one of her husband's tangents on Mossflower history. Instead all he said was. "We're here aren't we?"

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The ridge lay empty, only the stone and upturned earth showed anybeast had ever been there. The buildings grew higher and higher.

It was time for Dan and Beth to leave. September was only a few weeks away, Dan had to his role of professor, and Beth had another semester of high school waiting. While there was the promise of being reunited with wife and mother, it was still an unhappy time. With suitcases packed the squirrels spent the last night sharing space with Wally's family. May and Wally organized a small goodbye party for the pair. Bulfie brought his two small children, who got along famously with the young Brookbacks. Even Dr. Lockben and his wife made an appearance. Claria bringing a large meadow cream trifle, insisting that she couldn't attend a garden party without bringing something.

Over helpings of hearty food, and foaming pints of October ale they reminisced about the season. Wally held up his ale high saying. "Seems only fit we toast to the beasts that brought us all together."

Paws pounding on the picnic table there was words of agreement. Ales, punches, and lemon waters were held high in toast to the season and all who brought the band together.

Dan wiped foam from his whiskers, smacking his lips. "It was one heck of a summer." He shook his head recalling all the trials and tribulations.

Dr. Lockben rifled in his pockets a moment. "Before you lot dash back to Toronto, thought y'might like t'see this wot." He passed Dan the paper. "Mossflower heritage committee has agreed to fund a restoration of the monument. We might not have been able to do anything about where they put the Olympic village, but that rock you uncovered missy, she'll shine again."

The plans outlined the funding that would be put in place to preserve the stone, and see to it that it was accessible to the public to view. An artist was being commissioned to recreate the axe-pike and flag that were missing. These would be recast in bronze and follow close historic records of what had originally been there. In addition a small interpretation centre would be set up highlighting information about the historical significance of the ridge. With some twisting on Dr. Lockben's part even the Olympic commission would be coughing up some money to fund this imitative.

"We didn't win the battle, but we won the war." Bulfie said with a winked.

**A/N … and that my friends is where I'm leaving it. I was going to do an epilogue, but I think Bulfie's last line really sums everything up. A big thank you to everyone who has read this story, commented, or added it to your favourites. It really means a lot to me. I wasn't sure how a modern fic would be taken, and I'm so pleased to see that the response has been very positive. **

**Not sure if I will do another modern fic. I will consider it, if the interest is out there, and I can come up with a story line. **

**Again thank you to all of you.**


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